


Let's Go To Prison

by mykkila09



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe--No Powers, Attempted Rape, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Humour, Let's face it: Erik and Charles have a lot of sex, Logan being Logan, M/M, Public Sex, Romance, Shaw Not Evil-Evil, Shower Sex, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mykkila09/pseuds/mykkila09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles wouldn't last one day in prison with the mouth on him. He leaned against the wall of their tiny cell. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" he muttered to himself. </p><p>"No Charles," Erik said, coming closer, "I won't let that happen to you," he trapped the smaller man against the wall with his hand and smiled predatorily at him, leaning in even closer. "I'll offer you my protection," he trailed a finger down Charles' face, "but you'll have to give me something in return."</p><p>"Okay," Charles said on a whisper, closing his eyes and feeling as the other man brushed his nose past his cheek, almost as if he were smelling Charles—taking in his scent perhaps. A low moan came from the taller man, a rumbling from his throat, and Charles gasped slightly.</p><p>He just made a deal with the devil, didn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day of Prison Part One

"Thirty years," the judge said, "with the possibility of parole." She banged her gavel.

"What?" Cried out Raven from the stands as she stood up abruptly, "It was self-defense!" She gripped the bench in front of her tightly, looking up at the Judge like she was a fucking twat. Which in her opinion, she was.

Charles looked back at his sister with an apologetic smile—although he didn't know why he was the one looking sorry—he was the one who was going to jail, thank you very much. Fuck. Not that he had any regrets at this point—he'll never forget the look on his stepfather's face when he pulled the gun on him. He told the man if he laid his finger on him one more time…

If only Kurt would have listened. He really should’ve.

"This is horse-shit!" Raven barreled on—as if her protesting and profanity would sway the judge's mind. She already banged her gavel-thingy—that's means it final right? 

"Get her out of my courtroom," the honorable Judge McTaggert said, (but if you ask Raven, it's Bitch-faced-bitch Judge McTaggert) "Next sentencing case please."

Charles' lawyer looked down at him. "Sorry Charles," he said kindly as he placed a hand on his client's shoulder, "I'll get started on your appeal as soon as possible," he told the brunet.

_'Yeah,' _Charles thought as the bailiff came to take him away,_ 'soon wasn't soon enough.' ___

Like it or not—Charles Xavier was going to jail and there was nothing he, or his sister—no matter how much she cussed and yelled at the judge, which probably isn’t helping at all—could do that would change that.

...

Now, if there was one thing that was true about what you see in prison movies, it would be when the new inmates are being lead down the hall and to their cells and the current prisoners would jeer and yell obscene things. Charles discovered this the hard way of course.

"Fresh meat!" Some terrifyingly large burly man announced as soon as the doors opened and the new inmates made their way in.

_‘Well,’ _Charles thought as he walked down the foyer,_ ‘what the devil is that supposed to mean? I hardly see how comparing us to meat- ___

It hit him.

_‘Oh,’ _Charles thought dryly,_ ‘they want to rape me. Splendid.’ ___

He briefly wondered if he should shank someone in the yard to earn the respect of the Cholo's. There was only one sure fire shot at not getting raped in prison—and that was protection. (Or if you were the one doing the raping—which Charles would not be doing, thank you very much). Charles realized right then and there that he would need some form of protection.

Although, in order to gain that type of protection, he may need to do some 'favors' in return. Christ. It looked like no matter what, Charles would be performing some sort of sexual act whilst in here.

At least he was practiced.

"Hey there pretty little thing," another inmate behind bars said, "I like the mouth on you."

Oh dear Lord! He was talking to Charles! Damn his cherry red lips—he knew they'd be the downfall of him one day. Charles shot the man a wry look before continuing on.

So right, protection was his first priority here—that much he knew. The only thing was figuring out how to get protection and who to get it from. It couldn’t just be anybody; of course not, he may be in prison, but he was still Charles Xavier damnit! And he still had his standards…right?

"Hey baby," another one said, hanging his arms out of the bars, "you kinda look like a girl I once dated," he eyed Charles up and down as the brunet passed, "Stop by my cell after a while, I'll show you a real good time," he winked.

Oh my! Charles never! He couldn't believe the type of treatment he was receiving. Christ, just because he was small, cute and dainty (and had very nice hair and bursting blue eyes) did not mean he was a girl—or that he shall be treated like one. Thanks.

Charles very well may be boned.

Literally.

Damn it.

Finally making his way to his cell, (thank fuck that was over—it was like the longest walk of shame ever and he hadn't even been fucked by anyone yet, Christ) the door opened and the prison guard unlocked the chains from around his ankles (Charles found all that quite unnecessary too—where was he going to go? He was already in jail for fucks sake) and then pushed him into his cell. (Okay now Charles found hardly that   
necessary. How rude.)

Once the door closed, the guard announced that prisoner 04211979 was in.

Wonderful.

What now?

Oh, it would appear that Charles was not alone in his cell—there goes any privacy when it comes to masturbation. Fuck. He eyed the man that had his back to him. A good looking back if he may so…and he did.

"Ahem," Charles said softly, trying to get the man's attention, "Um…hello. My name's Charles Xavier—I do believe we'll be cellmates." Did he really just say that? Apparently his mind was still addled from the judge’s sentencing. 

The man with his back to him turned slowly, reviling what he was doing with his hands.

Oh. Wonderful—he was making a shank. Charles' first shanking would be in his own cell.

He did NOT see that one coming.

But instead of shanking Charles, the man (quite good-looking too) smiled a smile that was entirely too large for his face. Good god! Was he going to eat Charles?

And dear God, why did that sound so hopeful?

"So tell me Charles," the mysteriously handsome stranger (who was undoubtedly in for murder—or perhaps conspiracy to take over the world—he did have that look about him) said to him as he put his shank-in-progress down, "What is such a delicate little flower like you in for?" He let his eyes (god—they were almost silver in color) roam over the brunet's body slowly.

Charles felt that look a hot touch to his skin and he had to suppress not only the shiver, but the urge to throw himself at the guy and did he just call him a delicate flower? Christ! Why does everyone treat him like he's the girl? It's getting bloody frustrating!

Really, he was going to shank someone—just to show some dominance arou-

Whoa. The mysterious handsome stranger was now standing—almost looming—as he looked down at Charles. He placed a hand against the wall and trapped Charles against it, still smiling down at him like he were about to have a feast and Charles were the main course.

Okay—he can had tall to that list now; mysterious, handsome and tall stranger and should his heart be beating this fast?

Charles liked ‘em tall.

"I…um…" Charles stammered on, gazing up at the man who may or may not have him for breakfast. And again, why didn’t he have a problem with that?

"What's wrong Charles," the taller man said with his thick German accent, "Cat got your tongue?" He then ran a finger down Charles' face.

_‘I wish you would,’_ Came the immediate thought. Feeling the sudden problem (thank you very much stupid body) developing in his pants, Charles answered quickly. "Murder," he got out, still looking frightened—read intrigued—by the other man's closeness, "I'm in for murdering my step-father…self-defense actually, but the judge didn't seem to care and my sister was quite upset at the proceedings, in fact she even told the judge that-"

The good-looking man chuckled, cutting Charles' nonsense ramblings off, "You talk a lot when you're nervous—don't you?" He loomed a little more before taking a step back. "I don't need your entire life-story; I just wanted to know what you were in for." He gave the shorter man another appreciative once over (why did Charles shiver every time he did that?—damnit body, stop doing that!), "So murder huh?" He sat back down and went back to his toothbrush shank. Perhaps this man can teach Charles a lesson in shank-making 101—he might need it. "You don't look the type," the German said, focusing back on his weapon now.

Charles couldn't help but be offended yet again. What was that supposed to mean? Just because Charles was a bit on the softer side didn't mean he wasn't capable of being a cold-blooded murderer.

Okay he was totally not a cold-blooded murderer—but still—he did shoot a man. Once. Okay really it was self-defense, but still.

"And what type did you take me for?" Charles couldn't help but ask. 

The tall man shrugged, shank still in hand. "Don't know—tax fraud?"

Wh-what the fuck! Tax fraud? Now Charles was super offended. He took a step closer to the other man. "I'll have you know," he pointed a finger at him (which was probably not a very good idea in hindsight) "I've never not paid my taxes—in fact-"

"Charles," the man said calmly, cutting him off once again, "if you want to survive your first day in prison," he kept his eyes on his weapon, still whittling away, "I'd suggest not pointing a finger and yelling at a man who currently has a shank in his hand." He looked up at the brunet with that eerie smile again.

"Are you threatening me?" Charles asked, because apparently he doesn't know when to keep his fucking mouth shut. Jesus. Shank—the man has a shank.

His cellmate chuckled, looking back down at his progress. "No Charles," he said and then blew away some of the debris. He glanced up. "You're too pretty to hurt—I'd like to keep you around a bit longer," he eyed the brunet up and down once more. "I was just trying to suggest that to you for future advice—don't go sticking your finger, or mouth, where it doesn't belong; it's a good way to get killed around here."

Oh bugger. This man was right—Charles wouldn't last a day out in the yard with the mouth he had on him. He leaned against the wall of their tiny cell. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" he muttered to himself. 

This got the other inmate's attention. He glanced back to Charles before standing, setting his toothbrush shank aside.

"No Charles," the man said, coming closer, "I won't let that happen to you," he trapped the smaller man against the wall again with his hand and smiled predatorily at him, leaning in even closer. "I'll offer you my protection," he trailed a finger down Charles' face, "but you have to give me something in return."

_‘My body? It’s yours.’_ Charles swallowed—what choice did he really have? He remembered all the things the other inmates said to him on the way to his cell—it was only a matter of time before one of them acted on it. If we were going to be forced into having sex with anyone—he at least wanted it to be with his taller, mysterious, good-looking cell-mate. Might as well make the best of it.

"Okay," Charles said on a whisper, closing his eyes and feeling as the other man brushed his nose past his cheek, almost as if he were smelling Charles—taking in his scent perhaps. A low moan came from the taller man—a rumbling from his throat and Charles gasped slightly.

But then the man pulled away, much to Charles' surprise—he really thought his cellmate was going to take him right then and there. He really did. Is it bad if he was possibly hoping for it? God, this was such a mess! 

Charles watched as the German sat back down and resumed working on his weapon.

He glanced back at Charles after a second. "Name's Erik by the way," he smiled at the brunet, "Erik Lehnsherr."

TBC


	2. First Day of Prison Part Two: Erik's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of history on Erik. Also, Wade Wilson! Where did he come from?

Erik was angry. And he wasn't angry because he was in prison, although you'd think that'd be enough to make anybody angry, but not him. See, he'd made his peace with being in prison some time ago.

 

No, he was angry because one, he needed a new shank. Why? Because some dumbass had decided it'd be a good idea to fuck with him and of course he retaliated, he had to, couldn't let the man think he could win one over him. That and, he had a certain persona he needed to keep up around there.

 

And that was that he was NOT to be fucked with, thanks.

 

He was Erik fucking Lensherr after all, no one messed with him or he'd take you out...which is what he did. Now, before you get all pissy, you need to know what really happened;

 

See, he was just minding his own business (smoking a cigarette and thinking about what a dipshit Alex Summers was for trying to get Logan to punch him in the face just so he could go to the medical ward...we'll get more into that later...) like he always did, but Dumbass—and yes, that's with a capital D—decided to start shit. And how did he start shit? Simple; he wanted to fuck Erik.

 

Now, Erik didn't have a problem fucking—he wasn't a saint after all and had been with his fair share of men in and out of prison—but he had rules about this type of shit, and one of his rules—the main one actually—was that he never got fucked.

 

Ever.

 

He did the fucking.

 

Why? 'cause he's Erik Lensherr that's why. What? You got a problem with this? Take it up with Erik, or Logan. Sometimes Azazel—if he can be found that is—the man has a habit of disappearing when you need him the most. Jerk.

 

Back to the point, fuck.

 

When he told Dumbass that was not gonna happen, dude started acting up and started wanting to cause problems. So, Erik warned him.

 

Of course he did. He knew he was gonna kick dudes ass, but he was an honourable person.

 

Most of the time.

 

Some of the time.

 

Ok, so he was hardly honourable. Was that such a shock? He was in jail after all and it wasn't for fucking jaywalking…although, he's probably done that too (Fuck traffic rules—they should obey _him_!) 

Anyway, he warned Dumbass to stay away from him.

 

But Dumbass decided to try and jump Erik in the yard. So he fought back. Of course he fought back. He couldn't let the idiot believe he could start a fight with him and get away with it!

 

He was Erik fucking Lensherr damnit!

 

So they fought and Erik was winning and then Dumbass pulled out a knife, so Erik pulled out his shank.

 

So he killed the Dumbass, but before he could get the shank from Dumbass' body (it was in there pretty deep, oops) the guards had shown up. Of course Erik tried to get his shank back, but the guards wouldn't let him take it from Dumbass' body (Assholes, some stupid rule about not letting the inmates have weapons or some shit like that, pffh—Erik didn't see what the big deal was). Instead, he was thrown in the Hole—or rather solitary confinement, but come on, Hole just sounds so much more badass—and he didn't see his shank again.

 

And that pissed him off. I mean really pissed him off. Erik loved that shank. He made it himself; took him a long ass while to do it, but it was worth it in the end. It was all metal, with tiny designs on it making it look like it belonged in a damn museum or something. _That's_ how amazing the shank was.

 

He was damn proud of it. He and that shank had been in lots of fights together. But because of the Dumbass, he didn't have it anymore. If he hadn't have tried to fuck with him, then he'd still have his shank.

 

The more he had thought about it, the angrier he got. By the time he was let out of the Hole, even the guards tried to keep their distance. None of them wanted to be near him, but they had to escort him back to his cell.

 

Since there was no way he would ever see his old shank again (he liked to call it 'shanky') he decided to make a new one. This time out of a toothbrush, because fuck—what else did he have to work with? He already used all the metal he had on the last one.

 

He hated it. He really did, but he needed a shank.

 

And the second reason he was angry? He was getting a new cellmate. He didn't want a new cellmate and he knew that none of the other prisoners wanted to be his cellmate either.

 

And he liked it that way.

 

Well, except for Logan and Azazel. But they were two crazy fuckers and besides, they were already rooming with each other. Erik swore those two were working on some 'elaborate' plan (probably Azazel's idea) to escape via digging their way out with a spoon. A goddamn spoon!

 

The point is, everyone knew that Erik Lensherr and cellmates did not mix.

 

Case in point; his last cell mate, Wade Wilson. Jesus Christ—that dude wouldn't shut the fuck up. It was like, the second his mouth opened; you couldn't stop the words coming out. Erik was positive there was one time Wade had an entire fucking conversation with him while Erik was sleeping for fucks sake.

 

Sleeping!

 

He only knows this because he nodded off during and when he woke up, Wilson was still flapping that trap of his. Jesus, when the fuck did the man breathe?

 

So anyway, after a grand total of one day (and that's pretty impressive for Erik) Erik got Sinister to fuck Wade up (not that Erik couldn't do it himself—but he'd just gotten out of the hole you see, and two offenses in row equals double time down there). Now with Sinister, he has no problem messing someone up, it's kinda like a hobby to him, but you gotta pay him, and if he's going to go to the hole over kicking the shit out of someone—you gotta pay him good. So Sinister takes payments in two forms, 1) a carton of smokes, or 2) a blowjob.

 

And Erik's not telling which one he did. But, whichever it was it was worth it. Erik really enjoyed watching Sinister slap Wade around.

 

And by slap him around, this of course means break his face.

 

Logan pointed and laughed a deep bellowing laugh as Azazel rooted Sinister on. Erik just sat there with a cigarette between his lips and enjoyed the show. That oughta keep Wade from flapping his yap-trap for a while.

 

However, much to Erik's shock (horror), two weeks later, Wade returned from the medical ward (Erik was positive he'd be in there longer—or dead) and was brought back to Erik's cell.

 

Looking up from his new shank-in-progress, toothpick in mouth, Erik stared with wide eyes as a very alive and well Wade Wilson stood at the door. "What the..."

 

"Hey buddy, you miss me?" And Wade honest to god fucking smiled a happy smile at him.

 

So, needless to say, Erik had to resort to drastic measures to ensure that Wilson not only got moved to a new cell, but an entirely different cellblock as well.

 

Erik didn't want to take any chances in running into Wilson in the yard—somehow the crazy mother-fucker was under the impression that the two of them were friends—even after the murder attempt, what the fuck? Wilson was harder to get rid of than cockroaches.

 

Now again, Erik's not saying exactly what he did to get rid of Wilson, but it may have involved a shifty prison guard, a lot of bribing and a late night rendezvous in the laundry room.

 

So with Wade gone, and Erik back to his peace and quiet, he went back to making his new shank (he had to kinda put that on the backburner for a bit while he was working on his Get-The-Fuck-Rid-of-Wade-Wilson plan. He knew if he had that shank in his hand (even if it was only a dull blade at the time) he'd end up jamming it through the man's neck the second he started talking about god-knows-what again. Murdering someone gets you two months in the hole—and even that's too long for Erik).

 

The second time they tried to stick Erik with a new cellmate, the guard only got as far as the door to his cell. Erik took one look at the ginger haired boy, his red eyes, floppy grin and his "Sup dude?" for Erik to give the poor sap of a guard a look that implied if he even thought about putting that damn hippy-stoner in his cell he'd have hell to pay.

 

Even the guards were afraid of Erik (well, at least the ones that Erik _didn't_ have an alliance with, but we'll get more into that later) and especially this newbie who had the misfortune of having to bring Erik his new cellmate. Erik half wonders if it were some kind of joke the other guards were pulling on the new guy—make him take the hippy to Erik's cells—that oughta be hilarious.

 

So, one life-threatening look later (yes, only Erik could pull off a 'life-threatening' look—years of practice) the guard took a step back with the new inmate and said: "Not this cell," and then left.

 

Chuckling to himself proudly, Erik heard what sounded like Summers a few cells down.

 

"No! No fucking way dude—you're not sticking him in here with me!"

 

Erik just laughed some more, turning back to his weapon. Poor Alex.

 

Who knows though, Alex and that kid might become friends after all.

 

"Suck it up you little bitch!" Logan hollered from his cell to Alex's. He was met with his own "Fuck you!" from the blond.

 

Ah, life on Cellblock 6—it's like none other.

 

A day or two later, still working on his shank (he was gonna call this one Stabby) Erik was once a fucking gain interrupted during his work when yet another new inmate was brought to his cell.

 

Fuck it, he was just gonna shank his one on sight.

 

Sighing to himself, Erik kept his back to the man as the guard shoved him into his cell.

 

Then he heard his voice. "Ahem. Um…hello. My name's Charles Xavier—I do believe we'll be cellmates."

 

He instantly liked what he heard (well, not so much _what_ he heard—cause' really—who the fuck says that? But more of the sound of the voice). And what a proper and posh little voice he had—Erik hoped he had a face to match it.

 

Cause' if not—he was gonna shank him.

 

Turning to face the man who may or may not get shanked, Erik's face slowly turned into a smile.

 

Oh, he _did_ like what he saw. So cute too.

 

Although he appeared to be frightening the man—perhaps he should take the smile down a notch.

 

The man continued to babble on (not as annoyingly as Wade thank fuck) after Erik asked what he was in for, probably tax fraud, and Erik couldn't help but be endeared by the man, Charles as he had said, instantly, even as the man pointed his finger and started yelling at him.

 

"Charles," Erik said calmly, cutting him off once again, "if you want to survive your first day in prison," he kept his eyes on his weapon, still whittling away, "I'd suggest not pointing a finger and yelling at a man who currently has a _shank_ in his hand." He looked up at the brunet with a smile again, not realizing how eerie it was to the other man.

 

"Are you threatening me?" Charles asked.

 

Erik chuckled, looking back down at his progress. "No Charles," he said and then blew away some of the debris. He glanced up. "You're too pretty to hurt—I'd like to keep you around a bit longer," he eyed the brunet up and down once more. "I was just trying to suggest that to you for future advice—don't go sticking your finger, or mouth, where it doesn't belong; it's a good way to get killed around here."

 

_'Although, I don't plan on letting anyone kill you. No…I have plans for you,'_ Erik thought, making sure to turn his attention back to his shank so Charles wouldn't be scared by the smile he knew was gracing his face. There was a reason it was called his Shark smile (you'll find out later what the reason is)

 

Charles leaned against the wall of their tiny cell. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" 

 

Erik heard the mutter and he glanced back to Charles before standing, setting his toothbrush shank aside.

 

"No Charles," he said, going closer to the brunet—who it seemed had paled, "I won't let that happen to you," he trapped the smaller man against the wall again with his hand and smiled predatorily at him, leaning in even closer. "I'll offer you my protection," he trailed a finger down Charles' face, "but you have to give me something in return."

He watched as the brunet swallowed and his blue eyes seemed even larger. _'Fuck…does he even know what those eyes do to a person?'_

 

"Okay," Charles said on a whisper.

 

Erik grinned as he brushed his nose past Charles' cheek and a low moan slipped from his throat without permission as he inhaled the shorter man's scent. He felt the brunet tremble slightly and his grin became wider.

 

He pulled away, and saw the confusion in the blue eyes as he walked back to his bunk and resumed working on his weapon. He glanced back at Charles after a second. "Name's Erik by the way," he smiled at the brunet, "Erik Lehnsherr."

 

Erik took in his new cell mate's appearance; from the messy brown hair, to the bright, blue eyes—they'd put the sky to shame, and Mein Gott was that poetry?—and those pouty, cherry red kissable lips and for the first time, he was happy about a new cell mate.

 

_'Ah…yes. This could be the start to a beautiful partnership.'_

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Mykkila09 and I had been conversating via computer for quite some time now (mainly about how hot Fassbender is and how we strongly believe that him and McAvoy are secret lover's) before we came up with the idea to write this story. So if anyone was wondering how we got to this thought process, it went something like this…
> 
>  
> 
> (We were talking about a scene from one of my pervious stories were the police showed up to question Erik.)
> 
>  
> 
> Me: I've read a lot of stories were Erik just goes around killing people and then walks around free like nothing ever happened. (Hmm, the movie kind of did that too.) 
> 
>  
> 
> Her: Only Erik could kill a lot of people and not get arrested for it…
> 
>  
> 
> Me: Cops would probably be too afraid to arrest him, he's one scary mother-fucker when need be. Yet he is also such a tender lover when it comes to Charles…
> 
>  
> 
> Her: Too true; cops would show up, take one look at him and not even bother going close to arrest him. Lol. Or, he is in court and even though all the evidence points to him, the jury's verdict would be: unanimously not guilty on account of 1) "have you seen that fucker? I don't want him after me!" (the 6 men) and 2) "he's too fucking hot…drop dead gorgeous….he can't be a murderer." (the 6 women)
> 
>  
> 
> Me: I think the REAL crime would be putting a man like that behind bars! What a waste of a hottie—you can't keep a man like that off the streets—he's eye candy for women (and men) everywhere!
> 
>  
> 
> Her: Could you imagine him in jail though? Lol, not even the toughest thugs would mess with him…ooohh idea! ; Erik is in jail and Charles is thrown in for killing his stepfather (abusive mind you) and everyone wants a piece of Charles but Erik's already staked his claim.
> 
>  
> 
> Me: (After a few glasses of wine) Erik + Charles in prison! Hot sex! I love that idea! Erik would totally stake his claim on that little hot piece of British ass! I could even see Erik kill someone over trying to rape Charles or something. Possessive Erik is capital H Hot! Logan would totally be on Erik's side too—like his buddy who watches after Charles when Erik gets sent down to the hole—because, let's face it; Erik's going to the hole a lot. Oh god—are we writing this?
> 
>  
> 
> Her: Oh we should…we should!
> 
> Thus, Let's Go To Prison was born….


	3. I Like The Mouth On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles...gets mouthy with an inmate. Erik, gets defensive. Also, someone gets a 'happy ending'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter we're going to warn that there is 'attempted rape' as well as 'mild violence', but most people probably already knew that with this being a 'Prison' story, still—we just wanted to warn you.

It's only been a few hours since Charles was sentenced to prison, and met his new cellmate Erik Lehnsherr. And in those few hours, Charles noticed something immediately. And you know what that something was? 

Erik was feared.

 

No, seriously, _feared_. 

 

And he wasn't talking about normal fear—you know the kind where you see someone walking and just by looking at them you know they're trouble, although Erik did have that look about him—no, this was the full-body-shivers-pissing-your-pants-run-for-your-life kind of fear. 

 

The prisoners all feared him. Well maybe not all; from what he'd seen so far, Logan and Azazel were the only ones that didn't fear him.

 

And it wasn't only the prisoners that feared him either; most of the guards did too.

 

 _That_ still boggled Charles' mind. And if he was going to be honest—and he was, no one was around so he could admit it—it was kind of hot. 

Like, totally hot.

 

Charles didn't forget Erik's promise to protect him, but he also didn't think anything would happen his first day. 

 

Boy was he was wrong. 

 

He was just minding his own business, heading out to the yard where he knew Erik was with Logan and Azazel and pretty much ignoring everyone else; which is probably why he didn't see the man until he said something.

 

"Hey there baby," a scary looking burley man, who had more tattoos than visible skin, stopped him, "I like the mouth on you." He looked Charles up and down.

 

Jesus, what was everyone's obsession with his damn mouth? (Really Charles? It had nothing to do with your lips; lips that look plump and flushed so red that they look bitten…no…it had nothing to do with that at all)

 

"Now I have to say," Charles said to the other man, "that seems to be the general likeness around here. Everyone's just so bloody fascinated with my damn mouth," he told the man with a bit of a quip. 

 

The inmate just glared at him, a small sick smile forming on his face. "And would you like to know why that is, pretty boy?" The taller man asked Charles.

 

Charles shrugged. Sure, he'd humour the man for a bit longer, he knew Erik was watching over him. But what he didn't expect was for the stronger man to back Charles up against the wall suddenly.

 

And Erik was nowhere to be found. Shit. Charles swore the man was just across the yard with   
Azazel and that lumber-jack man—now where the bugger had he gone?

 

The other inmate trapped Charles up against the stone wall, much like Erik had done, only Charles was the opposite of turned on like when Erik had done it. He felt sickened—scared.

 

"Everyone's so obsessed with that little mouth of yours," he muscular man said as he ran a finger down Charles' face (Charles shuddered) "because we all want to see it in action," he leaned in a little closer to the smaller man, pressing his body against Charles'.

 

Any day now Erik…

 

"I bet you suck real good cock," the man went on, "and if not, I can always knock your teeth out and just face-fuck you."

 

Paging Erik Lehnsherr…

 

Charles swallowed thickly; desperately wishing the man would just let him go already. This was not how he wanted to spend his hour a day outside, thanks. He really had other things planned, such as lifting weights.

 

No really, Charles was gonna pump some iron…ya know…to bulk up, just in case Erik wasn't around one day to protect him…

 

Okay he was gonna go read a book quietly in the corner, but really—one of these days he was gonna go hit the weights.

 

It was on his list of things to do. Seeing how he had all the time in the world now…so yeah.

 

Also; small list. Since he's in jail and all…

 

"How about we see just what that pretty little mouth of yours can do," the scary inmate was now saying. Shit, Charles found himself being pushed down to his knees.

 

Really, were the prison guards just gonna look the other way during this? Was this shit normal?

 

Before Charles had the chance to think more about the complaint he was going to file with Warden Frost (too bad that'll get him nowhere, considering the fact that on the first day she told all the new inmates if they had any complaints about her or her prison they can write them down, seal em' in an envelope and shove it up their assess—true story) Erik was beside the inmate who was forcing Charles down to his knees and smashing an elbow into the guy's face before either of them had a chance to blink.

 

When Charles did finally blink, he missed the right hook that Erik sent straight into the man's face, knocking him back and away from Charles.

 

Scrambling away against the wall, Charles watched in part horror, part amusement and part arousal as Erik proceeded to beat the living crap out of the man who tried to rape him. Oh shit—now Erik was just plain kicking the man while he was down.

 

Literally—Erik was kicking him—in the side.

 

Repeatedly.

 

Looked painful.

 

Also, possible broken ribs in progress.

 

Charles felt lust shoot through him and he bit his lip to stop the whimper that wanted to escape.   
He didn't like violence nor did he condoned it, but there was just something so arousing about watching the man, who had all but declared you his, beat the ever living crap out of somebody for you.

It was almost noble.

 

"Erik! Erik!" Logan hollered, coming up behind his friend and grabbing him around the waist, "that's enough Erik! You're gonna fucking kill him!" 

 

Logan tried to get his buddy away because he knew, once the German got going he was hard to stop. "He's not worth two months in the Hole you dipshit!"

 

"Fuck it! I'm already going," Erik grit out as he fought against Logan and tried to kick the bastard in the face one more time—the no teeth look was good on him Erik thought.

 

Erik was pissed. No…he was beyond pissed. Seeing that man put his hand on Charles, _his_ Charles, had him feeling a rage he'd never felt before. It was like all rational thought had left his mind and the only thing he could think right now was 'MINE'.

Also; KILL.

 

"Lehnsherr! Calm down—right now you're only looking at two weeks, kill him and it'll be two months!" Logan pulled him away, holding Erik steady with both hands to his buddy's shoulders. Azazel was somewhere in the distance looking bored, making it obvious he wasn't getting involved; which was fucked up because as strong as he knew Logan was, he knew Erik was running on a primal kind of rage right now and because of that, the fucker was stronger than normal. But Azazel—the fucker—never got involved unless that guard Janos made an appearance. 

 

Erik was breathing hard, blood all over his shoe and partway up his pant leg as he glared at the bloodied man on the ground, still seething over seeing what he was trying to force Charles to do.

 

"Just calm down," Logan said again, diverting Erik's attention away from the bloodied inmate, "just think about Charles," Logan was breathing a bit ragged himself from trying to pull Erik away, "you need to be here to protect him, how are you gonna do that spending all your time in the Hole?"

 

Erik thought about this for a moment. Fuck. Logan was right. Charles wouldn't survive two months with Erik in the Hole.

 

Not that he was feeling any better about the two weeks he knew he had coming his way.

 

Pulling away from Logan sharply, Erik took a step towards the inmate who had become quite acquainted with his foot and sneered at him, "If I ever see you near Charles again I swear to God I won't hold back next time—I'll fucking kill you." He kicked the man once more just for good measures, earning him a low groan from the injured man below.

 

This was about the time that the guards made their way over. More than likely they all had a bet going on who would win. Most the time they put their money on Lehnsherr.

 

"Lehnsherr!" Shaw yelled out as he got closer, "You're in the Hole!"

 

"Yeah-yeah," Erik waved the man's words away, "I know the routine." He put his hands behind his back and waited for Shaw to cuff him. "How long this time?" He asked as soon as Shaw slipped the metal cuffs on.

 

"Eh, I'll make it a week—new guy was dumb enough to bet against you—he was going on size, not wits." Shaw smirked as he turned the cuffed inmate to face him.

 

"Always glad I can make you some money Sebastian," Erik said dryly but with a smile.

 

The prison guard winked at him, "I'll get ya a pack of smokes while you're down there," he said and then clapped him on the shoulder, "Now come on—you know the way."

 

Know the way? Erik could give the tour. Fuck.

 

They started off towards the doors that led from the Yard to back inside the prison. Erik turned just as they were about to go through them.

 

"Ay, Logan," he called out, "Watch after Charles for me." 

 

Logan gave a quick nod and flashed a smile the brunet's way. Charles was still in part shock and part turned on at what all just happened.

 

What the fuck did just happen?

 

"And no touching," Erik added, giving his friend a warning look, "this doesn't mean you get him while I'm in the Hole so you can just wipe that smug smile right off your face right now you prick."

 

Logan's face went back to its normal stony complexion as he turned his head to spit on the ground. "Wasn't my type anyway," he grumbled. He doesn't go for the pretty boy types; he's more into the loud-mouthed, asshole, sunglasses-wearing-all-the-time type guy. 

 

Absently, Logan wondered where Scott was. He hadn't seen the brunet asshole all day.

 

Charles watched as the prison guard—who may or may not be shifty, yet also an ally in some strange sort of way—took Erik back inside the prison. He still couldn't believe Erik did that for him. The man was willing to kill for him and the inmate hadn't even got as far as getting Charles to the ground.

 

He didn't want to think about what Erik would do if someone did succeed in raping him. Not that he wanted that to happen, Christ. 

 

Of course not. If anyone was going to rape him, he wanted it to be Erik. Although, then it wouldn't be rape if it was Erik. After all, you can't rape the willing…right?

 

"Come on bub," Logan's gruff voice called his attention, "time to get up." He held his hand out, 

 

"You're with me now—I'll be looking after ya while Lehnsherr's in the Hole."   
He helped Charles to his feet. "Azazel will look after ya too, but not as much as me. If that Spanish prison guard's around, Azazel definitely won't be any help. The man's like a fucking love struck teenager when Janos is working." 

 

Charles nodded, taking it all in. Got it—Azazel's no help.

 

Charles allowed Logan to lead him over to where him, Erik and Azazel's normal hangout spot was during Yard time. He couldn't help but _feel_ all the eyes on him as they walked by the other inmates who had witnessed that.

 

Which was all of them.

 

And they all learned one thing that day—and that was that the new guy belonged to Lehnsherr. 

 

This however did two things; it made half of them never wanting to go near the boy for fear that Erik will fuck 'em up beyond recognition, and it made the other half _desperately_ want to go near him—'cause if he was so worth Erik nearly killing someone over him, the boy obviously had something they all would be interested in too.

 

And that was his ass and his mouth.

 

Also, Erik had a lot of enemies in prison, half of them just wanted to fuck Charles to spite him.

 

Morons.

 

…

 

One long week in the Hole later, Erik was escorted back to his cell by Darwin— a good prison guard, goes by the rules but doesn't think he's above everyone else. Hell, he even befriended Lehnsherr in an odd kinda 'you don't fuck with me and go back to your cell in peace and I'll slip ya a pack of smokes every now and then' type way.

 

"You hear if anyone tried to fuck with Charles while I was away?" Jesus, and he asks it like he was on vacation or some shit like that.

 

Darwin cocked his head towards Lehnsherr as he walked him down the hall. "You mean inmate #04211979?"

 

Erik deadpanned. "…yes Darwin. Charles."

 

The dark skinned man shrugged. "Not that I heard—I think that friend of yours kept a pretty good eye on him." By growling at the other inmates if they came near.

 

"Logan?" Erik asked. Although he already knew it was more than likely him…unless that Janos guard suddenly dropped dead and Azazel magical became more useful. Although dead Janos would probably equal moping Azazel—then he'd still be useless, fuck.

 

"Oh, you mean inmate #101219-"

 

"Yes Darwin," Erik said, cutting the other man off, "Logan Howlett." Christ, what _was_ this guy doing working a shitty prison job, he should be doing something better like, being an Accountant or a Cost Estimator or…whatever else people who are really good with numbers do. And don't say a fucking Math teacher—Darwin's way above that league thank you very much.

 

"Open the door to cell 662," Darwin yelled out. The door to Erik's cell opened and Darwin nodded to him. "Try and behave yourself Lehnsherr." Erik just shot the man a smirk. "No promises," he told Darwin before he stepped in. The door closed behind him and locked.

 

"Inmate #04021977 is in!" Darwin confirmed before he headed off.

 

Turning around slowly, Erik smiled as he was met with the blues of Charles' eyes. The brunet was on the bottom bunk (Aww— _Erik's bunk_ —aint that sweet) looking up longingly at the German. "Erik," he gasped out, almost as if he were surprised to see the man so soon.

 

"I'm surprised to see you so soon."

 

…sigh.

 

But Erik just smiled. "Would you have preferred if I was gone longer?" He made his way closer to the bed…like, one step and he was there…small cells, remember?

 

"No-no, not at all," Charles said as he sat up a little in the small bunk. He put the book he was reading down, "I'm happy you're back—I've been terribly bored in here by myself," _'and I've been having nothing but fantasies about your cock ever since you beat that guy up for me.'_ He licked his bottom lick subconsciously and continued to look up at his cellmate.

 

Goddamn blue eyes. Erik swallowed as he gazed down at the brunet. He placed one arm on the top bunk and leaned down a bit to study the man below him. He smiled again. "So you missed me?"

 

Now Charles smiled timidly, a bit of blush spreading over his cheeks. Of course he missed Erik—he couldn't stop thinking about him the second the guard took him away after the fight. He honestly thought Erik would be in the Hole longer for the kind of beating he gave that guy.

 

"Maybe," Charles muttered, looking at the ground now. Erik leaned in even closer, his arm on the top bunk bent and his face pressing close to that. He peered down at his cellmate with his shark smile—the one that gave Charles the creeps at first but now seemed to be making him blush even harder.

 

"How is the guy I kicked the shit out of?" Erik asked, smile still on his face, "He hasn't tried to fuck with you again—has he?" Because Erik would finish the job if need be.

 

"No," Charles said as he looked back up to the taller man, "He's ah…quite dead."

 

Erik's face fell. "Really?" He asked in shock. Christ, he didn't actually think he killed the guy.

 

"Nah…just fucking with you," Charles told him with a smirk, "He's still alive, but his ribs are quite broken." 

 

Erik smiled even wider (if possible, fuck) "Ya almost had me there Charles," he told the smaller man.

 

Looking up at Erik, Charles took in a small shaky breath. "So…"he said, trying not to think about the closeness between them and what it was doing to his stomach, "The Hole, how was it?"

 

This time Erik actually chuckled. "It was wonderful Charles," he said sarcastically, "I had no sense of time, nothing to do, I didn't know if you were alright and I barely got any sleep—which is odd because you'd think with having nothing to do in there _but_ sleep, that's all you'd do—but not me—I couldn't." He cocked an eyebrow, "Also, I'm horny as fuck."

 

Charles blushed and looked away even as his cocked twitched in response. Traitor.

 

Smirking, Erik slid himself even closer to the brunet, still using the top bunk as something to lean against. "So," he said with a deep velvety voice, "I do believe I held up my end of the bargain," he reached down with his free hand and tipped Charles' face up by the chin and forced their eyes to meet. "So now it's your turn."

 

Swallowing, Charles' pupils grew wide with lust. "Of course Erik," he whispered, keeping his eyes locked on the man above him.

 

Removing his hand from Charles' face, Erik palmed his already hardening cock through his light blue prison pants. "Come here Charles," he mumbled, pulling his pants down just enough to remove his cock. 

 

Charles scooted closer to the edge of the bed, coming face to cock with Erik's member as the taller man stroked himself to full hardness. He didn't even bother to stop the whimper at the sight. He could feel his mouth watering and he licked his lips, suddenly desperate to have it in his mouth.

 

"Open up baby," Erik murmured once he was ready. He pressed the head of his cock against Charles' mouth, smearing a little pre-cum across the man's lips.

 

Taking Erik in, Charles moaned as soon as he got his tongue around the thick cock in his mouth.

 

Say what you want about Charles Xavier, but he loves sucking cock.

 

And Erik's was quite lovely.

 

Fuck lovely. Erik's was the most gorgeous cock he'd ever seen; it was thick and long and his mouth felt so full. He couldn't wait to have it in his ass.

 

 _That_ had him moaning even more.

 

Now Erik was moaning, softly, as he thrust slightly into Charles' warm mouth, looking down at the smaller man as he sucked Erik's cock shamelessly.

 

Perhaps…he should've jerked off at least once while in the Hole…

 

"Christ Charles," he groaned out, tightening his grip on the top bunk and thrusting harder into the man's mouth, "that fucking mouth of yours." He knew it was going to be good—he just didn’t know it was going to be _this_ good. Fuck.

 

 _'Yes, that seems to be all the rage around here,’_ Charles thought as he moved his mouth over and over again across Erik's long cock.

 

"Fuck," Erik bit out, "not gonna last long Charles," he reached his other hand out and cupped Charles' cheek and jaw as the man continued his relentless sucking.

 

But what did Erik in, and I mean really drove him over the fucking edge, was when Charles flashed his goddamn eyes up at the man—locking their eyes together firmly—and staring at Erik while he sucked him off.

 

"Jesus," Erik rasped out as he came, filling the brunet's mouth with his seed hotly. Fuck Charles knew how to suck a mean cock.

 

It was probably best the other inmates never found that out.

 

"Sounds like someone just got a blowjob, what the fuck?" came Logan's offending voice from a few cells down. Motherfucker.

 

"What about a blowjob?" came Alex's voice even further down the line.

 

"Your mother gave me a blowjob last night!"

 

Okay now that last one was just plain uncalled for.

 

"Christ," Erik muttered, rolling his eyes at the other inmate’s voices. Pricks.

 

Charles just snickered as he pulled off of Erik's cock. He swallowed his prize and stared up at the taller man. "Did I do good?" He asked quietly.

 

Erik just _looked_ at his cellmate. "The fuck do you think? You got me to cum in less than two minutes—I think that qualifies as better than 'good'." It was downright fucking Amazing.

 

He pulled his pants back up and joined Charles on the bunk. The smaller man scooted over as Erik leaned back, resting his head on his arms as he lay on his back, satisfied look on his face.

 

He glanced over at Charles. "This arrangement of ours," he smiled shamelessly, "I think it's gonna work out just fine."

 

TBC


	4. They Sure Don't Make This Easy On Us, Do They?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles get's lucky, Erik get's lucky and Alex get's some bad advice.

Erik awoke that night to the very distinct sound of…someone masturbating? Hmm, odd, and seeing that there was only one other person in the cell besides him, that had to mean it was-

 

"Charles?" He asked up towards the top bunk. The noise (and slight rocking of the bunks) stopped.

 

Now, if anyone knew the sound of skin on skin —it was Erik—he's spend quite a lot of time masturbating since his life sentence began over seven years ago. So of course, the bastard, smiled when he asked the next question;

 

"Are you whacking it?"

 

There was a small moment of silence (in which Erik could _feel_ Charles' embarrassment) before the brunet replied: "Maybe," sheepishly.

 

This made Erik's grin grow wider. He rolled onto his back all the way and looked up at the bottom of the top bunk. "Are you horny Charles?" he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. (Charles was not amused.)

 

"Well sorry," came Charles' annoyed voice (probably more so annoyed that his self-pleasuring got interrupted) "but that little sex act I performed on you earlier left me a little _unsatisfied_ ," he told the other man with a quip. 

 

A little unsatisfied? Shit, he was horny as fuck—he couldn't get the feel or taste of Erik's lovely cock out of his mouth.

 

Hence the masturbation in progress.

Well, the masturbation that _was_ in progress—thank you very much Erik-the-masturbation-ruiner.

 

Erik's smile faltered a bit. "Christ Charles," he said as he furrowed his brows, "why didn't you say something?" He would have been glad to help Charles out with that—Erik wasn't a selfish man...some of the time.

 

More awkward silence.

 

"Well I didn't exactly _think_ to ask. That wasn't really our agreement here—now was it?"

 

"No, but, that doesn't mean I wouldn't be willing to help you out Charles," Erik said as he kicked the top bunk slightly.

 

Charles peeked his head down over the side of his bunk and down to Erik, "So you'll help me out then?" he asked timidly.

 

This time Erik laughed, a low rumbling laugh, as he smiled up at his cellmate. "Get your scrawny ass down here Charles," he told the smaller man as he scooted over in his bunk and made room for him.

 

Sliding down, Charles climbed into bed with Erik and joined the taller man under the covers.

 

It was…cramped.

 

"Christ," Erik muttered as he found himself pushed up all the way against the wall of the cell, 

"They sure don't make this easy on us, do they?" 

 

Charles just chuckled, searching for Erik's eyes in the dark. "Well, it is prison," he told the German with a hint of humour to his voice.

 

"Come here Charles," the older man murmured as he reached for the smaller man. He brought Charles closer to his body and reached down into the man's pants, wrapping his hand around the brunet's eager and waiting cock.

 

Charles gasped quietly as soon as he felt the contact—Erik's hand was large and warm, and felt amazing around his hardening again cock.

 

"Hmm, not bad Charles," Erik said softly as he began pumping the cock in his hand to full hardness. The man wasn't as long as Erik, but he sure was thick. Erik could appreciate a nice thick, plump cock.

 

And Charles' was just that.

 

Charles gasped out some more, tilting his head back and opening his mouth slightly as the German worked his cock quickly. He couldn't help but be entranced by the arm that was pumping his cock so fervently— _Jesus_ —that bicep. Every time Erik pulled up with his wrist it showed off that beautiful, toned muscle and all its glory.

 

Seriously, Charles was going to hit the weights the next day—his arms were nothing compared to this Greek God of a man's.

 

"You gonna cum for me Charles?" Erik rasped out as he jerked the smaller man off quicker, flicking his wrist even faster now.

A gasping 'yes' tumbled from the brunet's lips as he felt his release draw nearer. He dug his fingers into the bed sheets and moaned out lowly as his seed spilled from his cock, coating Erik's hand nicely.

 

"Christ Charles," Erik replied softly, "that was a big load," he told the other man with a proud smirk as he slowed down his hand movements before finally just pulling away. He looked at his soiled hand, all covered in Charles' cum, and then to Charles before raising an eyebrow. "You _were_ horny."

 

"It was your cock," Charles said on a breath, "I couldn't get that cock of yours out of my head."

 

Erik smiled. "Is that so?" he murmured. He then looked hotly down at his cellmate before bringing his cum covered hand up to his mouth for a long, slow lick.

 

Charles whimpered.

 

"Perhaps," the older man said between licks, "you'd care to see that cock of mine again," he finished laving the remaining semen from his hand before he smiled wickedly at Charles again and then trailed his eyes down to his crotch.

 

Charles' eyes followed Erik's, and— _oh!_ —sure enough, he found Erik's throbbing hard-on tenting up under his pants.

 

"Yes please," Charles said with a lick of his lips before he slid down further on the bed. 

 

Erik let out a low groan as he watched the brunet pull his prison pants down and expose his erection. It bobbed up at Charles and the brunet muttered: "Such a lovely cock," before he took a lick at it.

 

Erik's head tipped back as another low noise rumbled from his chest and up his throat, escaping out his mouth as the man below him took his cock into that talented, talented mouth of his— _fuck_ —Charles could suck cock like none other.

 

Reaching down, he curled a hand around the back of Charles' neck, drawing him closer with every bob of the head as the younger man took more of Erik's cock into his mouth.

 

"So good Charles," Erik said breathily, bringing his other hand down to tangle in the brunet's soft hair, "you're so fucking good at this." 

 

Briefly, Erik wondered just _how_ Charles got so good at sucking cock, but the thought alone sent a surge of jealously running through his body so he instantly squashed it—he just went back to concentrating on how good Charles' lips felt wrapped around his cock and the way that his head bobbed up and down as he took Erik into his warm mouth over and over again.

 

"Can't wait to get into that ass of yours," Erik rasped out, looking around Charles' head and down to said ass—fuck it looked so tempting and hot. He was probably tight as fuck too—Charles seemed like the picky type—he probably didn't just let anyone into that ass of his.

 

At least Erik hoped not.

 

And if anyone else even _thought_ they were going to get into that ass—he'll fucking kill 'em—no one touches Charles but Erik.

 

No one.

 

Pushing himself up to his elbows, Erik reached his hand down and squeezed Charles' ass, molding it in his hand gently while the other man continued to service his cock with his mouth. 

 

"Oh yeah," Erik breathed, "this ass is perfect," he muttered.

 

Charles moaned around Erik's cock and picked up the pace, sucking him with earnest.

 

"Such a good boy Charles," Erik murmured, bringing his hand back up and running it through the smaller man's hair before settling it on his neck and jaw. He helped Charles bob along; using both his hands now to move the younger man's head up and down.

 

Charles opened his throat up even more, taking all of Erik's cock he could into his mouth. He then blinked up at Erik, locking their eyes together and watching the taller man while he sucked him off—knowing it was Erik's weakness.

 

Erik groaned out again, meeting those blue eyes and not looking away. His chest was starting to heave from breathing heavily and he just kept moving Charles' head up and down.

 

"Jesus fuck Charles," he huffed out, sitting up as much as he could in the small bunk and with someone between his legs, "I'm gonna cum so hard down your throat," he warned, eyes still locked with the brunet's.

 

And then he did just that.

 

Charles moaned as Erik filled his mouth up, swallowing every last drop as the man completed his release.

"Christ," Erik finally said when he was done. He collapsed back down on his bunk and blinked up at the top bed a few times—still in a haze from such a fucking amazing orgasm.

 

Only Charles could do that to him.

 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Charles sat up in the bed, looking over at his spent cellmate before he stood, making to go back to his own bunk and get some sleep.

 

"Charles," Erik said between harsh breaths as his cellmate started to climb back up to his bunk. 

 

Charles stopped and looked back to Erik.

 

"That mouth," Erik said seriously, "it's mine now—no one else's—you got that?"

 

Charles nodded, wordless, before he hoisted himself up onto the top bed.

 

Erik let out a relaxing breath as he rolled over to get some sleep, hearing the man above him as he settled into his own bed.

 

And really—if anyone else even _thinks_ that they'll get to see Charles' mouth in action—he'll fucking kill em'.

 

He'll kill em' all.

 

…

 

Logan was laughing, loud—and right in Alex's face too.

 

Alex was, less than happy about this. "Come on Logan, you don't have to be such a prick about it."

 

Oh, Logan totally had to be a fucking prick. It was in his nature.

 

"I'm sorry Summers," the burly man said once he got his laughter under control, "but you want me to do _what_?" He thought he might laugh again just thinking about it, fuck. This was a much better way to spend his hour in the Yard than just hanging out and smoking.

 

Looking slightly…no— _very_ agitated; Alex just huffed and crossed his arms over his chest to keep from all out hitting the man before him.

 

He knew his brother would be— _quite angry_ —if he were to do that. So instead he just looked off to the side with a scrunched up face (he liked to call it his angry face, but if you asked Logan he'd say it made the boy look constipated) and told the man again: "I want you to fucking _hit_ me."

 

And Logan _did_ laugh again—he pointed and fucking laughed at the blond. What a fucking twat   
Summers was, if he wasn't nailing the boy's brother, Logan very well might have just done so.

 

But Scott would be less than happy to hear that Logan smashed his kid bother's face in (again)—and as much as Logan wanted to at times, he knew it wouldn't be worth pissing Scott the fuck off.

 

Scott, for some reason, had it in him that Alex winding up in jail was somehow his fault.

 

He should've never let his kid brother be the getaway driver.

 

Because they didn't get away—in fact—Alex drove them straight into a telephone pole for fucks sake.

 

So yeah.

 

Scott still blames himself for even letting Alex get involved in that stupid crime in the first place.

 

"Is this another one of your 'brilliant'—and now, I use that term loosely—schemes to get back into the Medical Ward just so you can see that Doctor…what's his face; McCoy?" Logan snorted, shooting the younger man a look.

 

Alex turned two shades of red before he settled on the classic too-fast response of: "No!" which totally meant yes.

 

"Get fucked Alex," Logan said and then went to turn away. As much as he'd loved to punch Alex square in his smug little face, he'd rather fuck Scott up against the shower wall that night.

 

Also, a week in the Hole's just not as much fun as it use to be.

 

"Well fuck you too!" Alex said as a retort, one last desperate attempt to get Logan riled up enough to hit him.  
It didn't work.

 

Logan just kept his back to the boy as he walked away, showing him his favourite hand gesture from over his shoulder.

 

"Ass," Alex muttered to himself. Well fuck—now what? He hadn't seen Hank in over two weeks.

 

He was starting to miss the gentle Doctor with glasses.

 

"Ay, boy," came a thickly accented voice from behind him. Alex turned and came face to face with Logan's partner in crime.

 

"What do you want Azazel?" Alex asked, still frustrated that he had no way to go see Hank unless someone roughed him up good.

 

"I'm to understand that you are looking for someone to," he made a hand gesture, "beat you up? Smack you around a bit? Pumble your pretty little face in?" He cocked an eyebrow at the blond boy.

 

Alex shrugged, "Yeah. Why? You wanna do it?" Don't let Alex fool you—deep down—he was terrified of the Russian. He heard all about how the man ended up in jail—he didn't even think it was possible to stab two people in the eye with the same screwdriver.

 

At the same time.

 

Perhaps it was a really long screwdriver…

 

But Azazel just laughed, "Oh no," he shook his head, "there'll be none of that from me. I don't like spending all my time in the hole (like Logan did when he first got here)," he then looked over towards one of the guards by the gate, "I like to be around when Janos is working." He then winked over at the Spanish prison guard with an eerie grin.

 

Looking nervous, Janos gave a small wave the crazy Russian man's way before swallowing heavy and thinking to himself: _'Why does that man always wink at me?'_

 

He knew he should have taken that Security job at the mall instead.

 

"Then what do you want?" Alex asked again, getting more and more annoyed as this seemingly pointless conversation went on.

 

"I want to tell you just _how_ to go about doing that," Azazel cocked an eyebrow, "Getting yourself beat up that is," he clarified.

 

Alex turned to face him more. "Alright—I'm listening." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, briefly wondering if he should just go over and smack that Spanish prison guard around to see if that got him a reaction from Azazel instead.

 

Actually, that would get him killed.

 

Pointing over across the Yard, Azazel pointed out where Erik and Charles were sitting on a bench. "You see that brunet?" He asked Alex. The boy nodded. "Yeah—the new guy," he looked to Azazel, "In for tax fraud, right?"

 

Azazel resisted the urge to roll his eyes—how did that rumour even get started?

 

"Anyway," the Russian went on, "Now, if you go over there and fuck with him—and by fuck with him, I mean try and make a pass at him—you'll have Lehnsherr on your ass so fast it won't even be funny." He then smiled, "Well, it will be funny to me—just not to you," he gave the boy a look. "You'll be too busy getting your ass handed to you to find the humour in it." 

 

Whereas Azazel will find _much_ humour in it. Jerk.

 

What? There's a reason he was Logan's roommate and one of Erik's closest friends.

 

Ok maybe not ‘closest’ because of who Erik was, but if he was the kind of guy to have close friends, Azazel would be one. Right after Logan of course.

 

Alex swallowed. "Yeah, I don't know," he said sceptically, eyeing Lehnsherr. "I saw what Erik did to that last guy, and he was much larger than me," he looked to Azazel, "I just want to go to the Medical Ward with a few scrapes and bruises—not in a coma."

 

Or dead.

 

"Ah," Azazel said with a smirk, "but that guy was trying to 'rape' Charles—I was merely suggesting that you go over there and make a pass at him—no touching—just a wink, or a sexy grin— just to let him know you're interested. I guarantee Lehnsherr will just put his fist through your face—he won't try and 'kill' you."

 

You so sure about that Azazel?

 

He wasn't. Erik was one possessive bastard when need be. 

 

Alex thought about it for a moment; he looked back over to where Charles and Erik were, and couldn't help the uneasy feeling settling in him. 

 

Boy, did Erik ever look threatening as he watched over Charles, who was reading quietly (so much for pumping iron). The man was like a fucking hawk looking after its young, ready to strike at any moment.

 

Alex swallowed.

 

"You sure?" he asked the other man again, nervously. "I don't want to fucking die."

 

"I promise you—you'll be fine," Azazel said with an: _I'm-up-to-no-good_ grin. That should have been Alex's first clue.

 

Too bad he was more focused on finally getting a chance to see Hank again to pay any attention.

 

Sighing, Alex finally said: "Alright then," as he took in a deep breath and headed over to where Charles and Erik were.

 

Azazel just smirked, amused.

 

Let the fireworks begin.

 

TBC


	5. Your Brother Better Thank Me For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's a nice guy after all...really. Possessive!Erik.

Now, Logan likes himself a good laugh from time to time— hell— he even enjoys a good _fight_ from time to time, but when he saw Alex Summers walking over to Erik and Charles, with a look on his face that suggested he was up to no good, Logan couldn't help but to wonder what the fuck the boy was about to get himself into.

 

He then glanced over to where Azazel was and saw that the Russian was watching with rapt attention and humorous eyes. Fuck, he even looked like he wished he had some goddamn popcorn too.

 

He glanced back to Alex.

 

Then back to Azazel.

 

Then Alex again.

 

A bulb went off.

 

Oh fuck.

 

"Goddamn Azazel," Logan muttered to himself as he jogged over to Alex. "Summers!" he called out, "Wait up!" Jesus Christ, the boy just wanted to go to the Medical Ward so he could see Hank, not fucking die.

 

In the distance, Azazel looked disappointed, like someone had just rained on his parade.

 

Turning around to come face to face with Logan, Alex just asked: "What?" Christ, he was on a mission here, what the fuck did Logan want now?

"Christ Summers," Logan grumbled, "I knew you were fucking stupid, but I didn't think you were _this_ much of a fucking twat." Who the fuck listens to Azazel anyway? Jesus. The man just sent Alex to his doom.

 

"The fuck you going on about?" Alex asked, getting annoyed that he _still_ wasn't in the Medical Ward with one bashful Hank McCoy.

 

But Logan just made a wincey face. "Your brother better thank me for this," he said as he cocked his fist back before slamming it into Alex's nose.

 

" _OW!_ " Alex yelled out as his head flew back from the impact, he even heard his nose crack, damn. "What the fuck!?" he hollered, holding his now bloody nose as he looked up at the man that just sucker punched him. "What the FUCK Logan!?"

 

The burly man just shrugged as he shook his hand. "You'd better tell your brother to thank me for that later." Because he just saved Alex from his impending death without the boy even knowing it.

 

" _What!?_ " Alex really had no idea what the fuck just happened there. First Logan tells him to piss off and then the next thing he knows he's being pummelled in the goddamn face by a large hairy fist. What the actual fuck?

 

"Howlett—Hole!" Shaw yelled out as he pointed to Logan and then jerked his thumb back towards the Jail.

 

"Yeah, yeah," he retorted to the guard, "Don't get your panties in a bunch—I'm coming," he spat on the ground, then gave Summers one more look and said: "I'll have you know, I just gave up shower sex for that," before he turned to make his way over to Shaw, who was waiting for him.

 

"I have no idea what the fuck is going on!" was all Alex could say, still holding his face and wondering why Logan just broke his nose after he made it a point NOT to earlier. Seriously, what the hell!

 

Slipping Logan a cigar, Shaw just grinned up at the mountain man.

 

"The fuck is this for?" Logan asked as he took the cigar, arching a suspicious eyebrow at the guard.

 

Shaw just shrugged. "I've been wanting someone to slap that kid around for a while now—he's an annoying little pissant." He then grinned at Logan some more, "Just think of that," he eyed the cigar, "as a little 'thank you' gift."

 

Looking back to the cigar, Logan made a pleased face. He shrugged. "A cigar for punching Alex Summers in the face," he looked to Shaw and smirked, "I could get use to that." He put the cigar in his mouth and bit on the end. "Lead the way," he mumbled out around it and nodded his head to the door.

 

Eh, a week or two in the hole for decking Summers—totally worth it—and especially after Scott finds out that Logan actually saved his kid brother from the wrath that is Erik motherfucking Lehnsherr.

 

Stupid ass kid.

 

"Come on," Janos said to Alex, "Let's get you to the Medical Ward," he said as led the prisoner away from the yard.

 

Azazel quickly jumped up, "They may need my help," he declared as he made his way closer to the two men leaving. Namely Janos.

 

"Ow! I still don't know what I did to deserve that!" Alex whined out as he held his nose, blood dripping down from it nonstop. And if Logan were still there, he'd tell the boy to quit being a little pussy and suck it up bitch!

 

Eh, at least he was going to the Medical Ward.

 

Across the yard where Erik and Charles were, Charles looked up from his book and over to Erik, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and one leg bent, shoe against the wall behind him. "Did I just miss something?" he asked the German.

 

Never taking his eyes off Summers, Erik just glared before he told the brunet: "Almost."

 

…

 

"It's uh, pretty broke I'd have to say," Hank McCoy said, looking up at Alex after eyeing the bloodied nose before him. "How did you say this happened?"

 

Alex, who looked a mess (and was not happy about this now that he was in front of Hank), just sighed, "Mother fucking Logan," was all he could say. And it came out all funny sounding because of the break.

 

"Ah," Hank said, cleaning up Alex's nose best he could without hurting the man, "Logan Howlett—had him in here a few times—broken bones, cuts, head wounds—that one time with the fork stuck in his thigh—he sure does heal quickly though." Like, suspiciously quick.

 

Also, the man likes to fucking fight— either that or it's that damn mouth of his.

 

…probably his mouth.

 

Alex hissed, flinching back a bit when Hank bumped into his nose a tad. "Yeah, well—he's an ass—that's all I know." But apparently a nice ass—he did after all get Alex what he was looking for.

 

He could've done _without_ the broken nose though, thank fucking Logan very much.

 

"Sorry," Hank said timidly when he bumped into the blond's nose. Looking up, he gave Alex a bashful smile. "I hope you at least got one good in on him as well." Not that Hank condoned violence, but he didn't like to think that Logan just smashed this kid's face in with not so much as a scratch to his name.

 

Shudders slumping, Alex just said: "Nah—he kind of just sucker-punched me when I wasn't expecting it."

 

Hank's face fell, he frowned. "Oh, well—that's not very nice," he went back to work for a second, now bandaging Alex's nose. His eyes flickered back up. "Well, maybe," he kind of looked shy, almost nervous, "maybe when he gets out of the hole you should return the favour," he said timidly.

 

Alex just looked at him. "You think I should just walk up to Logan Howlett—the man who killed someone with a guitar string, and then bashed their face in with a hammer (just because he could) and then buried their body so deep in the Canadian woods it took ten years to find (Logan knew he should have just fed the body to the damn bear he befriended)—and punch him right in the face?" He blinked at Hank. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

 

Looking even more bashful (which Alex did NOT all find totally endearing), Hank just gave a small shrug. "It'd serve him right."

 

Alex deadpanned. "I would die."

 

Still looking coy, the Doctor just replied: "Well, I'd fix you up again, after he got done with you," softly, and then looked away.

 

Slowly, a bloody smile (some of the blood from his nose dripped down into his mouth, gross) formed over the blond's face. Was McCoy…flirting with him? Was this Hank McCoy's attempt at flirting? Telling someone to go out and get roughed up just so he can 'fix them up again'?

 

How fucking cute!

 

"I think that can be arranged," Alex told the other man, smile still on his face, "I think that can be arranged," he repeated happily with a head nod.

 

…

 

Ah lunch time, what a fond experience for someone their first time around in prison.

 

Lucky for Charles, he has Erik.

 

Or ten to one, all of his food would have been stolen already.

 

Yeah, that shit happens. A lot.

 

Charles, who had just sat down with his tray of 'aint-meat' (seriously, the food there is shit—when Charles asked the questionable looking guy who was serving this slop "what do you have today good sir?" he was answered with a shifty look and: "that's meat," a head nod towards some brown slop in a tray, "and that aint meat," another head nod to a tray of equally gross looking shit. So Charles settled on "aint meat," with a disappointed face) and looked over to where Erik was across the room and smiled at the man.

 

Smiling back, Erik gave Charles a wink before he went back to talking with that prison guard Shaw. At some point Scott Summers joined the conversation, slipping Shaw a few fags before telling him: "For Logan, tell him…thanks…I think." Shaw took the cigarettes and nodded.

 

Looking down at his 'food', Charles sighed. At least he had some cornbread that didn't look THAT stale, and a carton of milk. Maybe he could just live on that for the rest of his life.

 

But suddenly, his milk was gone—snatched up by yet another dumbass inmate who apparently had a death wish.

 

Or maybe he just really wanted Charles' milk.

 

Probably not—he probably just wanted a piece of Charles.

 

Sighing again, Charles just glanced up at the soon-to-be-dead-man. "May I have my milk back please?" he asked boredly.

 

Tossing the small carton of milk back and forth in his hands, the taller inmate just grinned at Charles. "Oh, I'll give it back," he said as his grin turned filthy, "as soon as you suck my dick."

 

Another sigh. "Right," Charles said, "always with the cock-sucking," he muttered to himself before he looked back up at the other man. "I'm asking you one last time, _nicely_ , to give me my milk back please."

 

The inmate chuckled, and then came closer to the brunet, putting his foot up on the bench and using his leg as something to lean on. He kept the milk in one hand and used his other to trace a finger down Charles' face and he told him: "And what happens if I _don't_ give it back, sweetheart?" softly and yet mockingly.

 

"Well," Charles said as he looked up plainly at the bald man, "first off—I _will_ be getting my milk back, and second— _you'll_ be getting a fork to the shoulder," he told the man with a quip, "so I'd suggest you just hand it over now and save yourself a trip to the Medical Ward."

 

But the other prisoner just smirked even more, chuckling softly. He ran a thumb down Charles' mouth, letting it linger on his bottom lip as he looked down at the brunet. "A fork to the shoulder huh?" he glanced down to Charles' lips, finally sliding his fat thump off it, "somehow I doubt you're that skilled," his eyes flashed back up to the smaller man's, "seeing as how I have to upper hand here." He loomed over Charles.

 

Looking behind the inmate, Charles just smiled when he brought his eyes back to meet his. "Oh, I never said _I'd_ be the one doing the stabbing."

 

The inmate's face fell and he looked confused for a second, but before he had the chance to respond, sure as shit, he felt a fork jab into his right shoulder, and a hot, sharp pain shooting through his body as he screamed out a curse word, or five. He turned around, ready to fucking _kill_ whoever it was that just stuck a goddamn fork into his-

 

He froze.

 

"Le-Lehnsherr," he stammered out, eyes going wide at the sight of the man standing behind him. And boy Erik looked _pissed_ , still seething with rage from the sight of the man being so close to Charles and the way that he _touched_ Charles' face.

 

And his mouth.

 

That mouth belonged to Erik, and no fucking one else.

 

The inmate looked back to Charles before he brought his gaze to Lehnsherr again. "I…I…I didn't know—I'm sorry Lehnsherr—I didn't know he was with you," he stuttered out, still looking scared as shit—which was hilarious because the guy looked like he ate bowls of barbed wire for breakfast and rusty nails for lunch. Fuck. He almost puts Logan to shame.

 

"Piss off Snake," Erik growled at the man, "before you get a spoon to the eye socket next."

 

Snake didn't need to be told twice, he beat feet the fuck out of there, cutlery still in his shoulder.

 

Sitting down next to Charles, Erik looked the smaller man over. "You okay Charles?" he murmured, running his own hand down the brunet's face. Charles leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

 

"Yes," he breathed out, opening his eyes again, "I'm just fine Erik—no harm done." He smiled up at the taller man fondly.

 

"Good," Erik replied, glancing around the lunchroom predatorily before bringing his focus back to Charles. He ran another hand down his face, "and it better stay that way," he murmured.

 

Charles smiled, his heart thumping in his chest from the protectiveness that was radiating off the German next to him.

 

Erik glanced around the room once more—it wasn't just enough to stake his claim on Charles—he needed for everyone to _know_ that Charles was _his_.

 

And he knew just how to go about doing so.

 

TBC


	6. Can I Go Back To The Hole?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik, *ahem*, stakes his claim.

A week or so after the Fork-to-the-Shoulder incident, Erik found himself in the Yard, stalking over to where a certain young, book-loving, brunet was standing, talking with Azazel and a still healing Alex Summers.

 

"Oh, hello Eri-" was as far as the brunet got before he found himself being pushed up against the wall forcefully by the German and a pair of lips being pressed firmly to his.

 

Oh. Erik was kissing him.

 

In the yard.

 

In front of everyone.

 

Well. What a way to stake a claim on someone.

 

Also, first kiss—kinda romantic.

 

For Erik.

 

"Erik," Charles breathed once the taller man pulled away. He looked deeply up into the other man's eyes (Erik was returning the warm gaze) "I-"was as far as he got again before Erik tipped Charles' face up by his jaw, and sealed their lips hotly together again—literally taking the younger man's breath away in the process.

 

He kissed Charles soundly, and with purpose, (yeah—the purpose of making sure that everyone knew Charles belonged to him and was hands-motherfucking-off) taking care to angle the smaller man's head up with his hand to better fit their mouths together.

Logan, just fresh from the Hole, wandered out into the yard about this time; stretching his arms and taking in a breath of non-stale air for the first time in over a week. He looked around.

 

His arms fell to his sides suddenly.

 

And then he made a face.

 

"Can I go back to the Hole?" He asked over his shoulder to Shaw, who was standing right behind him, watching the two men as he was—only he found it all so amusing.

 

Charles wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck as the kiss went on—he moaned softly into Erik's mouth as their tongues came in contact with one another.

 

Pulling away, Erik's words were drugged-like when he spoke, "You shouldn't moan like that against my mouth Charles, it turns me on more than you realize."

 

Charles shivered—feeling a wave of lust rush through his body from the other man's words.

 

"Erik," he breathed again, looking up into his eyes profoundly, "I've never been kissed like that before," he said breathlessly.

 

The German _growled_ , he didn't want to think about Charles kissing anyone else—now or _EVER_ —he pulled the smaller man closer, "You'll only be kissing _me_ from now on, so you'd better get used to it," he told the other man with a low voice before he sealed their lips together for a third time.

 

They kissed stronger, deeper—with passion. Sometime during so, Erik hoisted Charles up and pressed him against the wall more, for leverage. 

 

In turn, Charles wrapped his legs around the taller man's waist as they continued their mouth assault on each other, each kiss becoming more and more frantic.

 

Poor Alex, he looked like he was going to fucking puke as he stood not but a few feet away from all this—why does he always have to witness this shit?

 

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he complained as he held his stomach.

 

"Get a cell!" someone sounding suspiciously a lot like Scott Summers yelled from across the Yard. (Logan grinned.)

 

"Hey!" came Janos' voice (Azazel perked up), "Knock it off you two—don't make me get the hose!"

 

But Erik just continued to kiss Charles shamelessly, working the younger man's lips apart more so he could slip his tongue in and taste the sweetness that was Charles Xavier's mouth.

 

"Here, let me," Azazel said to Janos. He placed his hand on the prison guard's shoulder and flashed him a smile before he turned his attention to the two horny teens.

 

"Ay! Lehnsherr," he bellowed at the man, "The inmates are starting to jack-off to this free show—you might wanna wrap it up before you make them want to get into Charles' pants even more!"

Erik froze. His eyes slowly opened (meeting Charles') and he released his hold on the man, letting him slide back down the wall and to his feet again. Erik slowly turned, looking out into the Yard.

 

And sure as shit, damn near all the inmates were staring intently at the sight before them (or as Azazel put it—the free show they were supplying) and some of them even had stiffies, motherfuckers.

 

His plan may have worked a little too well—sure, everyone knew that Charles was his now—but now they also seemed to want a piece of the brunet's ass even more.

 

At least judging by their cocks they did.

 

Erik just smirked. Bring it on then—he'll kill em' all if he has to.

 

"Alright," Erik said, stepping away from a flushed and thoroughly kissed Charles, "Now that I have everyone's attention, let's get one thing straight," he stepped up onto a bench to be better heard, "Xavier here's _mine_ , you all got that? He's hand off! That means: no touching, no groping, no fondling, no LOOKING. Hell, if I even get word that you masturbated while _thinking_ about him, I'll fucking rip you cock off and shove it up your ass," he glanced around the Yard, "You all fucking got that?"

 

"Eh, put a cork in it Lehnsherr!" 'someone' yelled.

 

Erik's head whipped over to where Logan was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and huge fucking grin on his face. He just flipped his friend off with his own grin. "Good to see you finally decided to join us again Logan," he told the other man.

 

"Ay! I was in the fucking Hole!" Logan shot right back. Fucking Lehnsherr—what'd he think—Logan was on vacation? Christ.

 

Erik hopped back down off the bench and walked over to where Charles was. He slung an arm protectively around the shorter man's shoulder and placed a kiss to the side of his hair.

 

"That won't stop em' all," he told the younger inmate, looking back around the Yard as the others started going back to what they were doing, "but that at least got the word out." He glanced down to Charles, "Within a day, I guarantee this whole prison will know that you're mine.”

 

Charles couldn't help the rush of lust that ran through his body when Erik said that.

 

Erik brought Charles in front of his body now, wrapping both arms around the smaller man's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder as he murmured into his ear: "But like I said—that won't guarantee that they'll stay away from you—but I sure as hell can promise that if anyone so much as comes near you again—I'll fucking kill them slowly, and painfully."

 

Charles shivered, his eyes closing. It really shouldn't be such a turn-on to hear a man say he'll kill anyone who touches you, but it was. It really was.

 

Erik placed a quick kiss to the side of Charles' neck. "You're mine now Charles Xavier—and no one else's."

 

Alex walked right up to Logan, who was still leaning against the wall like he owned it (which he probably did—this is Logan we're talking about, fuck.)

 

"Ay Logan," he said.

The burly man turned away from watching Charles and Erik’s little love-fest, smirk on his face-

 

*BAM!*

 

"What the fuck!" Logan hollered out, hands flying up to his nose (that he was pretty sure was broken now, thanks.) He _glared_ at Summers.

 

But Alex just glared right back (don't let him fool you though—he was about to crap his pants—he just punched Logan-I-can-fucking-kill-a-man-with-my-bare-hands-Howlett).

 

"That’s for sucker punching me after you told me you wouldn't!" He spat at the larger, taller, more murderous looking man. Alex swallowed. Perhaps...this was not the best idea. Goddamn Hank...

 

"Shit," Scott said from across the Yard, "I have to go before this turns to blood," he told the inmate he was talking to before his baby brother just creamed the man he loved. Never a dull moment for Scott Summers, thanks.

 

Logan just grinned, and it was all bloody and eerie, Jesus. "Not bad Summers—quite an arm you got on ya," he turned his head and spat on the ground, getting some of the blood out of his mouth before he looked back over to Alex.

 

"But now I'm gonna kill ya."

 

Alex didn't even bother stopping the whimper that escaped his lips as he looked up at Logan.

 

Hank better appreciate this, damn it.

 

…

 

"God Erik," Charles breathed out against the other man's mouth. 

 

Erik smiled against Charles' lips before he sealed them together, kissing the man passionately again as he pushed him down onto his/their bunk.

 

Thank fuck they were finally back in their cell so Erik could get Charles into a proper bed now.

 

He wanted to finish what they started in the Yard.

 

Charles pulled away with a gasp, looking up at the taller man. "Erik," he breathed out again, cheeks flushed with red and panting slightly. "I…I know I already repaid you the other week for the Fork-to-the-Shoulder guy," he licked his lips, still looking deeply into Erik's eyes, "But I was hoping…we could…that you would..." he let it trail off.

 

Smirking, Erik got just what Charles was saying—and he _already_ had plans for that—Charles should've know that from the way Erik was just kissing him.

 

Also, the way that Erik was pressing his hard-on against Charles' thigh— _that_ should've been a dead giveaway, fuck.

 

"I was hoping you would say that," Erik muttered against the smaller man's mouth, bringing his hand up to tip Charles' jaw up and fit their lips together.

 

Charles moaned into the kiss, sliding his eyes shut as Erik's mouth took him away. After a few moment of savouring the feel of Charles' sweet and plump lips, Erik slid away, trailing his mouth softly down the brunet's jaw and neck.

 

Charles gasped, his eyelids shooting open and his hands flying up to tangle in Erik's hair as the taller man worked his way down Charles' body.

 

"I want you inside me Erik," Charles breathed out, tipping his head back and closing his eyes once more as his cellmate placed a single kiss to his hip bone, after he lifted the brunet's shirt up a bit.

 

Smiling onto Charles' soft, silky skin, the German licked a small stripe before he lifted his head up again to meet eyes with the man he was teasing so. "I can't promise I'll be gentle," he told Charles in a low tone, smirk on his face and pure desire in his eyes.

 

Charles shivered, looking down at Erik. "I don't want you to be," he rasped out.

 

A low moan came from deep within Erik's throat, his eyes went heavy and his cock twitched. 

 

"You little _tease_ ," he growled out at the younger man before he climbed back up Charles' body and claimed his lips again.

 

They kissed hotly and wetly—Charles moaning and Erik swallowing those moans as he ran a heavy hand down the smaller man's body, cupping his ass in the end.

 

After breaking away, Erik grasped Charles' ass even harder, looking deep into his cellmate's eyes before he told him: "Take off your clothes Charles—I can't wait any longer—I need to be in that ass."

 

His breath hitched in his throat as he looked up at the taller man above him. Gently, Charles pushed himself up (Erik moving off of him) and removed his shirt, watching Erik the entire time and Erik watching him, eyes drugged. He couldn't take his eyes away even if he tried.

 

He didn't want to though.

 

Erik ran a hand down Charles' newly bared chest, feeling the man's quickening heartbeat through it. He looked up and locked eyes with the brunet. "Your pants Charles," he whispered, his own heart rate speeding up from the anticipation.

 

So long had it been since he properly fucked someone he actually cared about.

 

Once Charles had removed his pants and underwear, he laid back on the bunk, letting Erik take him all in.

 

"So hot Charles," the older man murmured, his eyes raking over the soon-to-be-fucked man's body. He reached out and gave Charles' cock a few good strokes, earning him a low moan from the other man. "Love your cock Charles," he murmured again, watching as it twitched even harder in his hand, a small amount of pre-cum being forced out from the slow pull of his upward hand movement. 

 

Erik wanted to lick it away.

 

"I want you to do that while you're fucking me," Charles managed to choke out, watching as Erik's large hand took it's time stroking his cock slowly up and down. "That feels so fucking good," he moaned.

 

A breath hitched in Erik's throat this time, his hand faulted slightly and he shot his eyes to Charles'. "Christ Charles," he said softly, "You keep talking like that, and I won't last very long."

 

"Then perhaps," Charles murmured, eyes locked on Erik's, "You should fuck me already," he breathed.

 

In a flash (and possibly a growl) Erik had grabbed both of Charles' legs and hoisted them up—forcing the man open and exposed. He nestled himself between Charles' thighs, looking down at the soon to be penetrated hole that he was going to slip his cock into and fuck until the cows came home.

 

Or until someone heard them and yelled at them to shut-the-fuck-up.

 

More than likely Logan too…ass.

 

"Hold on," Erik muttered, getting up and off the bed to remove his pants. "I have lube somewhere around here,” he said absently as he kicked his pants and underwear off.

 

"Do I want to know how you managed to get 'lube' in prison?" Charles asked wryly, sitting up a bit and watching as Erik dug around under the bed.

 

Grinning that shark grin again, Erik just said: "Probably not," as he fished out the bottle from under his bunk. He returned to his spot between Charles' legs and removed the cap.

"Don't worry Charles," the older man said as he spread some slick onto his fingers, "I've only ever used this for masturbation," he told his fuck-buddy as he slipped a finger inside him.

 

Charles gasped at the finger entering him. He didn't so much believe Erik, but he didn't really care—it's not like HE had any room to talk; he's been fucked by his fair share of men in college—no need for jealousy here. (Don't tell Erik that though—he might not feel quite the same.)

 

Adding a second finger, Erik twisted. "Not bad Charles; my cock should slip in easily, you're quite relaxed for me." He added a third finger and Charles groaned softly, his mouth opening.

 

"I'm ready Erik," he gasped, lifting his face up to meet the man above him.

 

"Shhh, not yet," Erik chided him—he moved his fingers in and out rhythmically. "You're still a little tight," he murmured.

 

Charles _moaned_ out lowly, his head tipping back into the pillow and his eyes focusing on the bottom of the bunk above him. Erik's fingers were fucking magic—he could get off from just this.

 

"Please Erik," he begged, looking back at the German, "please just fuck me already."

 

A shiver ran through Erik—goddamn all the filth that came from that posh mouth. If Charles kept it up, Erik would just fuck _that_ instead.

 

He slipped his fingers out. "I'm not going to last long," he said as he positioned himself by Charles' hole, one hand on his cock for guiding, the other on the brunet's thigh, "especially not with all the dirty shit coming out of your mouth." He pushed in.

 

Charles moaned, loudly, and gripped onto the side of the bed as Erik thrust in more. He was about halfway in when Charles' other hand found itself tangled into the bed sheets, moaning and gasping as Erik took his time sliding into the smaller man's tight heat.

 

"Fucking _Gott_ you feel so good," Erik ground out, watching as he slipped more and more of his long cock in. "Once I get this all the way inside you," he rasped out, looking up at Charles now, "I'm going to town on this ass," he warned. He was not going to hold back at all.

 

"Give me your best," Charles challenged, matching Erik's gaze. He hadn't been thoroughly fucked in a long while—he was past due for this.

 

A wicked grin spread over Erik's face and he pushed into Charles all the way. Charles gasped sharply and then Erik said: "You ready?"

 

A whimper left Charles.

 

Then the fucking began and it was hot and quick; Erik snapping his hips repeatedly, driving his cock deeper and deeper inside of Charles' ass, drawing out all the pleasure he could from the man below him.

 

Charles, did not last long—as predicted—he knew he was doomed the second he saw the German's perfect body. Fuck, he could masturbate to _that_ alone—Erik fully clothed too.

 

" _Erik_ ," the brunet cried out as he spilled his seed between their sweat slicked bodies as Erik stroked his cock in sync with his thrusts. So fucking perfect.

 

Erik clasped his other hand over Charles' mouth to stop the other inmate’s from hearing the man's moaning.

 

He didn't fucking need them masturbating to the sound of Charles getting off damn it.

 

Even _that_ angered Erik just to think about it.

 

Erik was next to spill his seed, filling Charles' tight heat liberally as he shot off inside the man. 

He muffled out his own guilty pleasure of a moan, biting onto Charles' shoulder slightly as he did.

 

Both men lay there ragged for a moment, breathing heavy and gasping. Erik was the first to move—he rolled off the younger man, landing next to him heavily in the small bunk.

 

They both looked over at each other and smiled.

 

Until…

 

"Sounds like someone just got fucked, what the fuck?" came, yet again (right on cue), Logan's offensive voice.

 

Erik grumbled to himself before he yelled out: "Shut the fuck up Logan—I don't need you to add commentary to my sex-life every time!"

 

Silence.

 

"What about Erik's sex-life?" came a few more cells down.

 

Looking over to Charles (who was smiling like a loon), Erik just said;

 

"Let's just fucking kill em' all."

 

TBC.


	7. Oh I'm Happy, It's Just Erik That I'm Concerned About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven really should pay more attention to details.

"Dear Lord! What happened to you!?" Hank exclaimed when he saw Alex in his exam room. He had to adjust his glasses to make sure he saw correctly.

Alex just _stared_ at the other man for a moment and then: "Logan. Fucking. Howlett."

Hank blinked. "I told you to punch him—not insult his mama," the doctor said as he studied Alex's busted up face— _good god!_ —was he missing a tooth!?

"I did!" Alex protested. Although insulting Logan's mama would have worked too—he'll store that one for later.

Hank made a wincey face, "Perhaps my suggestion wasn't the best then." He did want to see the blond inmate again—just not all blooded and beaten, Christ.

Although for now, this seemed to be the only way.

"Eh, it worked," Alex shrugged. Hell, he'd take all the punches in the world as long as it meant seeing Hank again.

"Indeed it did," the doctor muttered as he made his way closer to his patient. "Well, let's take a look," he said.

After a few minutes, Hank declared: "Well, nothing seems to be broken…this time around." Thank god. 

He looked up into Alex's eyes, "I was afraid he'd set your nose healing back a week or so, but it seems to be just fine." Oddly enough…

Alex deadpanned, "Yeah, he seemed to have just worked on the jaw and mouth area this time."

Hank couldn't help the chuckle that came from him. He still couldn't believe Summers did this just to see him again—he was truly flattered. If fact, he did believe he was blushing at that very moment.

"Well, I am happy to see you again," Hank said timidly, "Despite the circumstances." He looked down at the ground nervously.

Alex smiled (well, to the best of his ability—his mouth was quite swollen and bloody), he glanced at the gentle doctor. "I like seeing you too—even if I don't look my best," he added dryly.

Christ, Hank had yet to see Alex without blood or bruises or some random bone sticking out of his body—it was starting to become a nuisance.

Looking back up to the inmate bashfully, Hank gave his best smile. "I…I kinda think it's sexy," he told Alex. He liked em' a little on the 'roughed-up' side, it was a turn-on.

Or perhaps Hank has just spent too much time in a prison Medical Ward…

Smirking, Alex said: "Oh, if you like this," he pointed at his battered face, "then perhaps you'd like me better after Lehnsherr got done with me."

Hank's face fell. "Oh no," he shook his head, "I'd prefer you 'alive', actually," he told the boy. He saw that one inmate that Erik nearly kicked to death the other week—so many broken ribs…

And let's not forget the fork-to-the-shoulder guy—Hank won't be forgetting that one anytime soon either—Erik got that fork damn near down to the hilt in him, fuck.

No, as much as he loved seeing Alex a little bruised up, he was happy he _hadn't_ gone to Erik. Because there was only one way Alex would've gotten Erik to fight him and that was if Alex had gone after Charles. 

Two reasons Hank didn't like that; one, he hated the idea of Alex being flirty with anyone else, and two, if Alex _had_ gone after Charles, Erik wouldn't have just kicked his ass, no, he would've killed him.

And Hank liked Alex alive, thank you very much. 

Letting out a laugh, Alex just told Hank: "I was totally fucking with ya." His face then turned serious, "I don't want to die either." There was still so much Alex hasn't done yet. It's not like he had a life sentence or anything—he'll be out in no time.

Well, about two years…but still— not as bad as Logan or Azazel and their life-without-parole sentences—sucks for them.

Although, Alex had a sneaking suspicion that neither men regretted their actions, hell, he even thinks Logan _enjoys_ being in fucking prison— _enjoys it!_

Well, he did meet Scott here—so it can't be all that bad. And Scott, well fuck, he's actually upset with the fact that he'll be getting out soon and Logan won't—Christ those two were meant for each other.

"Well, let's get you cleaned up," Hank said, bringing Alex out of his thoughts. He stepped closer and started wiping some of the blood from the blond's face.

But Alex had other plans, he suddenly grabbed Hank's other hand and brought him into a kiss—and sure, it was slightly bloody and somewhat gross (not to mention it hurt poor Alex)—but it was totally worth it because Hank wasn't pulling away and yelling for back-up, in fact, he was kissing Alex back.

And then the kiss broke. Hank (who was absolutely blushing now) pulled back and smiled softly at the other man. "Well, that was…"

"Nice?" Alex supplied with his own smile.

Hank nodded, going back to looking down as he felt his cheek redden even more. "I was gonna say 'unexpected', but yeah—nice works too."

…

"Raven!" Charles exclaimed happily as he sat down in the small booth, smiling brightly.

Rolling her eyes, Raven just pointed at the phone on the wall.

"Oh, right," Charles said, picking up the black phone and placing it to his ear as his sister did the same on her side.

"Raven dear!" he said again, smiling impossibly too wide for someone in jail, "It's so good to finally see you love! How are things?"

Raven was shocked; I mean, really shocked. She expected her brother to be angry, or mopey, she even expected him to be scared, because let's face it, she _knew_ how he looked, how other men always found his lips and eyes sexy, so deep down, she had really expected to see him hurt because he was raped or some shit.

Not _this_. 

Still staring at her brother, Raven just said: "Christ Charles—you enjoying prison or something?" 

'Cause seriously, what the fuck? Did he somehow gain the respect of everyone there in the short time he'd been in prison and now he was in charge or some shit like that? He must have stabbed the right guy, Christ. And knowing Charles—if he were in charge— he'd have them all doing Yoga in the Yard and rehearsing musicals for pastime, fuck.

"Oh don't be silly," Charles said, waving a dismissive hand, "It's hell in here." He then bit his lip, "But I did..." he looked off to the side with a shy smile, "…meet someone special," he mumbled.

What the…

Raven nearly hung-up her phone right then and there and left—Jesus Christ—only her brother would meet someone in prison, fall in love, and be all happy and shit.

In prison!

She deadpanned. "You met someone?"

Charles nodded. "I did—he's German and tall and all broody, and— _oh!_ —he watches after me too!," he told his sister with a little too much excitement. "Oh Raven, he's absolutely dreamy too—I wish you could meet him—I just know you'd love him! He's sweet and kind, as has this really sick and disturbing sense of humour but-"

"What," she asked, cutting her brother and his damn ramblings off—Jesus, nothing was worse than Charles Xavier in love, "-is he in for?"

Charles faltered; his face fell as his sister's words caught up with him. And of course she'd ask that—leave it to Raven to spoil a good thing. "Well, um," he started, looking away…

"…murder," he said around a cough, trying to cover it up.

It didn't work.

Raven's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. " _Murder!?_ " she parroted back, staring at her brother like he was an insane fucking lunatic. 

"Christ Charles! Out of all the people in this prison, you chose a goddamn _murderer_ to fall in love with!?"

"Hey!" Charles shot right back, "Need I remind you what _I'm_ in for?" he hissed at her.

"That's different!" Raven shot back, "Yours was self-defence!" Now if only the jury would've thought that too…

"How do you know his wasn't either?" Charles raised an eyebrow in Raven's direction.

Raven _looked_ at her brother. "Was it?" she asked sarcastically. 

Silence.

"No."

She just stared at Charles again.

"Alright, so it was premeditated," Charles huffed, "Is that what you wanted to hear?" He'd cross his arms and pout but one was occupied with the damn phone, thanks.

"No," Raven said, still staring at her looney brother—perhaps the Nut House would’ve been a more suitable environment for him then prison. She then shook her head, "Listen, that's not what I'm here for, I'll deal with... _that_ later." She looked serious at Charles, "I talked to your lawyer Charles—he thinks he might be able to get you off after all."

Now Charles' eyes widened, he gripped the phone tighter. " _What?_ How!?"

But instead of making him happy, the news only made his heart pound as apprehension danced through him. 

"Three words: Battered. Women. Defence."

Charles' face fell. "Why does everything have to pertain to me being a female?" he asked dryly.

But Raven was already speaking again, "It's a real thing Charles—Women get off all the time if they have enough evidence to prove that they were being beaten and abused to the point of fearing for their own life's," she made a face, "Normally it's from an abusive husband, but I think in your case they'll let it slide."

"There's only one problem though," Charles said sceptically, "We have nothing to go on—seeing how I _killed_ the only evidence we could've used." Can't interrogate a dead man.

Raven shook her head, looking dead on at her brother through the glass. "That's not true," she told him, "We have Cain."

Charles' heart froze. "Cain?" he breathed. No, there was no way his stepbrother would testify on his behalf—he hated Charles. "But how? He refused to have anything to do with the trial the first time around, hell, he was even going to testify _against_ me at one point, remember?"

"Let's just say," Raven said with a smirk, "He's had a change of heart." She balled her free hand into a fist, cracking all her knuckles at once.

Christ, Charles knew his sister could be persuasive when need be, but he didn't know she would do THAT, just to get someone to see things her way.

Then again, Charles means everything to her—he shouldn't be so surprised that she'd beat someone mercifully (and pull a couple teeth out one by one) until they cracked.

"Also," Raven went on, "It helps that he went through the same thing that you did," she added gently. She learned that in the time she spent with Cain when she had him tied up in the basement while she 'persuaded' him.

"Really?" Charles asked, shock on his face. He had no idea—he'd thought Kurt was only taking his frustration and anger out on him.

Raven nodded again, "Yeah. He didn't have it as bad as you did though, but it was enough to make him okay with testifying against his dead father." That and, losing a couple teeth to a pair of rusty pliers helped.

What? Don't fuck with Raven.

Especially when it came to her brother.

"I can't believe this—I never thought this could happen," Charles said, looking down as he shook his head. He honestly thought he was going to spend the rest of his days behind bars. 

And in the beginning (like at his hearing and on the way to prison) he had been terrified and all he had wanted was for the judge to say she made a mistake and he was free to go after all.

And then, he met Erik, and Logan, and just like that, he had gotten used to the idea of being in prison for life.

I mean, Erik was gorgeous, and protective (read: possessive) and Logan, Logan was comic relief, and they made prison life so much easier. But now, now, it was all threatened; his days hanging around Logan, and getting fucked by Erik (what? If you got fucked by Erik too, you'd never want to leave the man's side either!)

Raven spoke again, drawing Charles from his thoughts.

"Now, I'm not saying that you're going to get out tomorrow or anything, but your lawyer already has your appeal in motion—he's already got the ball rolling." She smiled kindly at her brother.

Yay (can you hear the sarcasm?)…wait, she can't…this is in his head.

"I...I just don't know what to say—this is all such great news," he finally looked back up at his sister, but there was no smile on his face.

"You sure don't seem all that happy about it," Raven commented with a frown. She'd have thought her brother would've been as enthusiastic as she was about his getting out of prison. 

A thought struck Raven; Oh god—he DID love prison. Time to intervene-

"Oh, I'm happy," Charles told her, still emotionless, "It's just _Erik_ that I'm concerned about."

Raven furrowed her brows. "Who the fuck is Erik?" she asked into the phone.

Charles just sighed.

Christ, he really wished his sister would pay more attention to details.

TBC


	8. Hard Way It Is

Charles looked down at the free-weight rack, contemplating what amount he should start with.

Ah, 75 pounds—that shouldn't be too hard to curl.

He reached out with his right hand and grabbed for the weight— _whoa!_ —that's heavier than he thought. He tried with both hands but it was still quite heavy.

Perhaps a smaller weight to begin with…

Ah!—20 pounds—that's better. He started curling the free-weight as he looked around the Yard.

"Hey," Logan said as he strolled up to the brunet. He reached down and picked up a barbell with two 50's on either side, "Lehnsherr's looking for ya—said he hasn't seen ya since your visiting hour—I think he's worried about you," he started curling the barbell one-handed. Fuck.

Christ, Charles had only been gone an hour—leave it Erik to worry about Charles over nothing. It was kind of sweet though, Charles couldn't help but having feelings of warmth towards the other man.

He put his weight back on the rack. Well that was enough weight training for one day—he doesn't want to get TOO bulked up now.

"Thanks Logan," Charles told the man with a brilliant smile as he turned to leave.

Logan just grunted in response, still curling the weight, only now with a cigar in his mouth...Jesus...

Charles spotted Erik across the Yard, talking with that Shaw guard again. He had yet to tell Erik about the news that Raven had told him—about his lawyer's appeal he was working on for him. He was…a bit afraid to tell Erik.

Not that he feared Erik would be angry with him—oh no—quite the opposite. He feared that Erik would somehow try and get one of his outside sources to snuff-off Charles' lawyer. Erik was quite fond of his British cellmate.

_'No, that's ridiculous—Erik would never to that,'_ Charles thought to himself, _'he wouldn't ruin my one chance at freedom just because he likes me.'_

Likes? Try Lov-

"Heads up Xavier!" came a voice that sounded a lot like Alex Summers'. Charles ducked, unsure what or _where_ , whatever it was, was coming from.

What appeared to be a condom filled with—what the fuck? The slop they serve at lunch!?—flung past him and smacked right into Logan with a _*Splat!*_.

What.

The Serious.

Fuck?

Logan, cigar still in mouth and barbell in hand, (and you should NEVER attempt to piss off Howlett with a potential weapon in hand, Jesus fuck) just glared down at his chest, where the foreign object seemed to have landed (and stuck) leaving quite a mess.

He then glanced up at Alex (who was slightly quivering with fear, but still holding his ground. In his head, he was declaring: _For Hank!_ ).

Dropping the barbell with a _*Clunk*_ , Logan just peeled the offending object off of him with a grimace and then looked back to Summers.

Oh, so he DID want to die.

Scott, from across the Yard, looked between his little brother and his lover and for a second— a second mind you— contemplated stepping in, but in the end, just said: "Fuck it—he's on his own this time," and went back to discussing E. E. Cummings with the inmate he was talking to.

Alex let out a particularly feminine sounding scream before he took off running.

Charles just shook his head, as Logan barrelled past him with a murderous grin, and made his way over to Erik and Shaw.

"-that time you kicked that inmate's face in so hard his eyes popped out?"

Erik laughed, placing his hand on Shaw's shoulder. "Teach him to take my pudding." He then saw Charles and smiled even wider. "Charles," he said, turning his full attention the British man now. "How was your visiting hour?"

Charles tried to hide the blush that crept up on his face from Erik's smile (he tried not to read into it too deeply, but every time the man saw him, his smiles got just a bit brighter). "It was nice," Charles told him, "But there is something that I need to tel-"

"Alright!" Shaw hollered out beside them, cutting Charles off, "Yard times over," he told all the inmates, "Back inside with your ugly mugs—you all have an hour of Door's Open Time—but screw it up again and we'll take it away!"

Furrowing his brows, Charles turned to Erik, completely forgetting that he needed to tell Erik about his appeal. "What's Door's Open Time?" he questioned.

"Since our particular Cell Block has gone a month without an incident—a riot, a breakout attempt, murder—things like that," Erik explained to the smaller man as they made their way back in, "we all get an hour of Open Cell Time. You can go to other people's cell, mingle, talk, make toilet wine—shit like that." He looked at Charles with a smile, "There's even a Library if you're interested—not many inmate's go to it though."

"A Library?" Charles' eyebrows shot up. Oh, he was VERY interested.

Erik smiled even brighter. "Yeah, I'll show you where it is." He slipped his hand in Charles' and led the way.

…

"Are you sure you'll be okay without me?" Erik said down to Charles as the other inmate settled into a chair—book in hand.

"I'll be _fine_ Erik," Charles said from the wooden desk he was at. He glanced up at the taller man. "I'm not _totally_ helpless you know." Erik saw him struggling with the weights earlier, he had doubts there. "Besides," Charles raised his eyebrows, "I _am_ a murderer," he said dramatically.

Erik doesn't really count shooting someone with shaky hands and closed eyes as being a 'murderer'—you have to get creative—using bare hands, or various questionable objects to kill them—now _that's_ murder in Erik's book.

Glancing up, Erik spotted Azazel lurking around a bookshelf—well good, at least HE was there to look after Charles should anything happen.

But WHY was Azazel hanging around the Library was the question…

Erik didn't have time to think about that, he looked back down fondly to Charles and said: "Alright, well, I'll only be gone about 30 minutes—Logan's been bitching that I haven't been showing him any love since you came around."

Charles quirked an eyebrow. "I thought Scott was the one who showed Logan 'love'."

"Different kind of love," Erik said with a grin. "Logan and I have some urinating business to attend to while Alex is in the Medical Ward."

Charles made a face. "You two are going to piss on Alex's stuff while he's in Medical?" he asked _dryly_.

"That's the plan."

Can't say the boy didn't deserve it—he'd been fucking with Logan extra hard for some reason lately. Dumbass.

"Right," Charles said, turning back to his book, "Carry on then. Tell Logan I said happy pissing."

Erik chuckled, gazing down lovingly at the younger man. He leaned down and pressed a kiss atop his head before muttering something under his breath.

"What's that?" Charles glanced back up. Did Erik just say: 'a dove shoe'?

What does that even mean?

Smiling, Erik just said: "Nothing… I'll tell you later." Not in the Library, it wasn't the right place.

Charles smiled.

"I'll be back in 30," Erik said before finally leaving, looking back at Charles once more with passion in his eyes.

There was something about that British man that did weird things to Erik's heart.

Slowly, Azazel sidestepped towards Janos, book open and coving his face (what the fuck? Was he undercover or something?). He lowered the book and smiled at the Spanish man with a creepy fucking smile, Jesus Christ.

"So, how long have you been a prison guard?"

Janos swallowed nervously, but smiled.

…

Charles hadn't got too far into in his book when a shadow fell over him, causing him to look up.

_Oh!_ —that's a big man.

"Well, well," the large inmate said as he eyed Charles, "if it isn't Lehnsherr's little _pet_."

Sighing, Charles just set his book down on the table. Does _everyone_ have a death wish in this prison? Fuck. He glanced back up. "I am not his 'pet', I'm his-" Boyfriend? Lover? Fuckbuddy? Charles really wasn't sure, "-friend," he settled on.

"Oh," the inmate said as he smiled down at the smaller man, "well then in that case—he won't mind sharing."

Sharing? What the?

"I'm sorry," Charles said with a quirk, "but have you _met_ Erik Lehnsherr?" Surely this man has to know that Erik doesn't fucking share—and especially not when it comes to Charles. Christ.

The other man just glared down at him. "Oh I've _met_ Lehnsherr," he sneered at Charles and then put his foot up on the table and whipped up his pant leg, revealing a nasty looking scar. "You see that?" He pointed at the gash, "Lehnsherr did that not too long ago—so yeah—I got some unfinished business with him."

Looking at the scar (Ah, must have been done by ‘Stabby’—Erik’s toothbrush shank), Charles just replied: "Ah, I see. So if I'm correct, then that means you're here to 'rape' me, as some sort of retaliation?" He looked up at the man. "I’m beginning to get the feeling that’s how it works around here."

Grinning sickly, the inmate just said: "You got quite a mouth on you—don't ya? Maybe I'll just fuck that instead."

"You wouldn't be the first to try," Charles said with a sigh. He wasn't afraid, not when he knew Azazel was just over-

What the?

_The fuck was Azazel now?_ Christ! That man makes the worst habits of disappearing when you need him the most, fuck!

Suddenly nervous, Charles swallowed.

"What's wrong princess?" The taller man cooed, "Your back-up gone missing?"

But before Charles had the chance to say or do anything, the inmate had grabbed him and forced him out of his chair and over the desk.

"So tell me," the other prisoner said as he held Charles' face down on the desk, and began removing his pants, "Do you want to do this the easy way," he whipped Charles' pants down next, "or the hard way?"

Squirming, Charles just replied through gritted teeth: "No, you tell _me_ : do you prefer a closed casket or open casket funeral—cause' when Erik's done with you—I'd suggest closed."

The inmate grinned. "Hard way it is."

…

Erik stopped. Something still wasn't quite sitting right with him. Why WAS Azazel hanging around the Library? He knew the man didn't read, and it's not like he'd be in there JUST to look after Charles for him—Azazel's a good friend—but not THAT good.

It hit him.

Janos! Erik slapped his forehead.

Of course—Janos probably had Library duty—that makes sense as to why Azazel would be stalking around there. Erik chuckled to himself and shook his head as he continued walking down the hallway to Logan's cell.

He then froze.

Wait. If Janos is around, then that means Azazel is completely use-

Erik took off running for the Library.

…

"Hold still you little bitch," the prisoner said as he held Charles down, "or this is gonna hurt!"

Still trying to fight back, Charles just replied: "That's what Erik will be saying to YOU once he finds out what you've done to me!"

Just then, the doors to the Library burst open at unbelievable speed (nearly flying off the hinges mind you) and one VERY pissed off and MURDEROUS looking Erik Lehnsherr stood in the way.

He WAS going to say something along the lines of: _Get your fucking hands off him before I RIP them off and BEAT you with them_ , or: _How would you like to die fucktard?_ But he found himself over by the table so fast; he didn't even have the chance to speak. Jesus.

In an instant, Erik ripped the man away from Charles (who took THIS opportunity to pull his pants back up. Thanks) and smashed the inmate's head against the edge of the desk before picking up the nearest book and proceeding to use THAT now to repeatedly beat the man's face in with.

Charles winced. "I was gonna read that."

Next Erik grabbed the chair that Charles had been sitting in and started beating the man with THAT now— _fuck_ —until the chair broke that is.

Erik then got creative and used the broken chair leg to hit the other prisoner with until the man blacked out.

"LEHNSHERR!" Logan hollered (and how he always seems to know when a fight's going on is still a mystery. Super senses maybe?) from the Library doors. "For the love of God—quit fucking killing him! You wanna go back to the fucking Hole?"

Broken chair leg still in hand (rage still in his body) Erik just looked down at the bloodied and more-than-likely-dying man.

"Fuck it, he's gonna snitch on me anyways," he bit out and then sent another smack to the man's body.

"Lehnsherr!" Logan bellowed out again, "Not if we leg-it! Come on—let's get the fuck outta here! They'll just find him and think someone else did this to him."

Looking over at his friend, Erik just said: "I'm pretty sure they know my 'beating' style by now Logan—this has ME written all over it," he told him dryly.

Couldn't argue there.

Logan just shrugged, "Still, no point in being at the scene of the crime. Come on, let's get out of here. Charles, you too." He waved both men over to the door.

"Come on Erik," Charles said softly as he put his hand on the taller man's shoulder, "he's right—we need to leave."

Looking down at the man he'd beaten to an inch of his life with a book and chair (points for creativity) Erik dropped the chair leg. "Alright," he told Charles before they took off.

A moment or so later, Azazel popped his head out from behind the bookshelf and looked around.

"Did I miss something?" Janos asked, sticking his head out next, hair all messed up and disarrayed.

Looking at the bloodied and beaten inmate laying on the floor under the table—Christ he's probably dying— Azazel just replied: "Nope," and shoved Janos back into the dark corner.

…

Sprinting causally down the hallway, Erik looked over to Logan. "You know, he'll just rat me out when he recovers."

" _If_ he recovers." Logan pointed out.

"Uh, I have to agree with Logan here," Charles said, kind of out of breath from trying to keep up with the other men's quick strides, "He did seem…kind of dead."

"Hey boys, where you off to so fast?" Shaw said with a grin as he walked down the hallway past them.

All three men instantly slowed their steps, trying to look causal—like someone _didn't_ just beat a man... in the library…with a book.

It was Erik!

What the fuck is this now— _Clue?_ Christ…

"Oh, nowhere," Charles said, trying his hardest to smile despite the fact that he just nearly got raped.

Again.

"We're just gonna," Logan pointed down the hall, "go to our cells—say a couple Hail Mary's—shit like that."

Shaw just chuckled. "Alright boys, try and stay out of trouble then." He gave them a wink. "I'm just gonna pop down to the Library and tell Janos that he has Yard duty next," he told them before he continued on down the hallway.

They all started sprinting faster.

…

"Did you beat an inmate's face in with a book and then proceed to use a broken chair leg as a club?" Warden Emma Frost asked coolly from across her desk, eyes fixed on the inmate across from her.

Erik made a shocked face—absolutely _shocked_ —appalled even. "What?" he asked in utter disbelief. How dare she? "I can't believe you would accuse me of such-"

"Can it Lehnsherr!" Emma snapped at him. She folded her arms on top her desk. "He already told me it was you."

"So his IS alive," Erik muttered to himself. Looks like Charles and Logan both owe him a pack of smokes.

The Warden sighed. "Lehnsherr, I've tolerated a lot from you these last seven years, (fork-to-the-shoulder-guy was pretty funny though) but this one takes the cake!" She looked at him seriously. "You almost killed him."

"Well I was kind of going for that," Erik remarked dryly.

"I'm going to act like I didn't hear that."

"He was about to _rape_ Charles!" Erik spat out, still enraged with anger from the situation.

" _He_ said it was all consensual—that Charles had propositioned _him_ and asked _him_ to engage in sexual intercourse." Emma replied flippantly. “You just happened to interrupt them.”

Erik's fist slammed down on the desk. "He's lying!"

Warden Frost didn't even bat an eyelash. "Speaking of Charles," she said causally, "it seems to me that _he_ may be the problem here. Ever since we stuck him in a cell with you, you've become more hostile—have had more 'incidents'." She shot him a knowing look. "Perhaps," she said with a smirk as she leaned forward to meet Erik's eyes, "if we were to 'take' Charles away—say; move him to a different Cell Block entirely—you'd stop trying to kill all my prisoners with hilarious items."

Erik's blood ran cold— _No_ —she can't take Charles away from him! She just can't! He'll tear down every goddamn brick in this prison just to get to Charles again! _She can't do this damnit!_

But before Erik said/did anything too volatile, the dark haired girl (Emma's number two in command) snorted from behind Emma and said: "I don't think Charles Xavier will be a problem much longer."

Both Erik and Emma looked over to the girl.

"What do you mean Angel?" Emma asked—she looked kind of bored though—like she'd rather be doing something else. Perhaps filing her nails to razor sharp points.

A smile came over Angel's face. "I was listening in on Charles' visitation time with his sister," she looked right at Emma, "and it would appear that his lawyer is already working on his appeal—something about 'battered women's defence'." She then looked to Erik. "I give it a month before Charles Xavier is a free man again."

"Well," Warden Frost said with a smile, she turned back to face Erik. "Looks like this worked itself out then."

But Erik felt numb, like he wasn't really there. He was lightheaded and sick to his stomach—he wanted to _kill_ someone— _burn_ this whole prison to the ground and piss on the ashes.

It felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach with a tire iron.

But what made him the angriest was the fact that _this_ was fucking news to him.

TBC.


	9. I Won't Lose You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He won't lose him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for public sex.

Ah, communal shower time, what could be more degrading and humiliating?

Well, unless you're Erik Lehnsherr, who just so happens to have a horse cock- - nothing humiliating there.

Charles had just finished soaping up his entire body and was letting the water rinse him (eyes focused on the wall- - best not to make eye contact with anyone in there) when he felt a strong pair of hands on him. _Seriously? Again?_ But lucky (and probably more so for the could-have-been-inmate than Charles) the pair of lips that followed belonged Erik.

_His_ Erik. Charles sighed happily as he felt the German's lips move from the back of his neck up to his jaw.

"Erik," he breathed out, feeling the man's arms draw him closer- - Charles' back to Erik's chest.

"Shhh, don't speak," Erik whispered against his cheek, before finally sealing their lips together- - Charles having to crane his neck around to kiss the taller man. Erik ran one hand down his cellmate's back as the other cupped his face, pulling him closer into the kiss and sending waves of arousal through both their bodies.

"Erik, people- -people are watching," Charles gasped out once they broke away- - Erik trailing his lips down Charles' spine now. 

"Let them watch," the older man muttered against Charles' wet skin as he sunk down to his knees, still kissing the entire time. But when Charles turned his head just enough to look down at the other man, he saw something in the German's eyes as he gazed up longingly at him.  
 _Hurt? Sadness? Emptiness? What was that?_

Charles couldn't exactly put his finger on it. 

But then Erik was spreading Charles' ass cheeks with his hands, muttering: "You're so wet," before he took a swipe at his hole with that talented, talented tongue of his- - and _ohhh_ \- - it felt so good. Charles' forehead instantly turned back to the wall as he pressed it to the cold tile and moaned.

"Wha- -what are you doing Erik," he rasped out, breath hitching as Erik tongued him again. _People were watching for Christ's sake- - they were watching!_

"Claiming you," Erik got out as he licked Charles' sensitive hole again, "in case any of these morons didn't already know." He slipped a wet finger in next, twisting and stretching the smaller man.

"Oh- - _oh_ \- - Erik, I- - I don't think that's such a good idea, do you?" The brunet asked against the wall before forcing his head to turn and look around the large shower room. And yep, sure as shit- - inmates were staring at them. One was even… squeaking a yellow rubber ducky at them? What the fuck?

Azazel was sitting on the beach, towel around his waist and filing his nails. Well, he looked like a pretty boy if Charles ever saw one. Next his eyes found their way over to the guard on duty- - ah, Shaw- - and he had some big creepy smile on his face and- - okay, seriously? - - there was something wrong with that man. Shaw just gave him a wink before turning away and whistling idly.

Charles…was gonna ignore that for now, and probably because Erik was standing again, pulling Charles' hips out from wall and positioning himself behind the smaller man.

"I _want_ people to see this—see that you belong to me," he rasped against Charles' ear. "Is that okay Charles?"

A shiver ran through the younger man's body as his eyes closed. He pressed his cheek to the cool tile wall and breathed: "Yes Erik- - take me- - show them that I'm yours- - only yours," and he could've swore that Erik _growled_ , almost possessively, as he drew Charles' hips out even more, until the shorter man could _feel_ the tip of Erik's cock press against his relaxed, wet hole as he confirmed: “Only _mine_.”

"Good Lord Lehnsherr," Logan grunted from the other side of the communal shower, "have you no decency?" He shook his head, turned back around and then grabbed Scott, who had just lathered his hair up all nice and soapy, and brought the man into a smothering kiss. 

" _Hmmpf!_ " came from Scott as he tried to flail in protest at the sudden kiss assault, but Logan just held his face tightly.

"What the fuck was that for?" Scott asked (and WHY he was still wearing his sunglasses in the shower was anyone's guess- - probably the same reason why Logan was putting a cigar in his mouth, fuck, these two assholes were meant for each other, weren't they?).

Grinning like a creeper, Logan's simply told him: "I got inspired,” and then: “Later tonight- - your cell- - I'm busting out." (Poor guard on duty that night—he had no idea he was going to get a fist to the face the second he walked past Logan's cell.)

Looking at the clearly insane smoking man next to him, Scott just shrugged. "Okay."

Back on the other side of the room, Erik spit into his hand before slicking it up Charles' ass cheeks. "You're still pretty wet," he told him before using his other hand to guide his cock to Charles' entrance. "Christ Charles," he moaned the second his cockhead pushed in, instantly engulfed in Charles' tight, wet heat, "you feel so good." _He ALWAYS feels so good_. 

Charles' eyes closed, a breath left his lips followed by a moan as Erik started thrusting in deeper- -deeper and deeper- - every push deeper until Erik was in to the hilt, buried so far up Charles' ass the pleasure was near insatiable.

" _Yes_ \- - Erik," Charles choked out, "Pl-please- - fuck me- - start fucking me- - please."

Both their bodies were dripping wet as they fucked, one solid motion of pumping as water drizzled over them from the sprayer ahead. Charles was gasping, craning his face back to look at Erik as the man fucked into him, both hands on Charles' smaller hips. 

"God Charles, this ass." He sped up, pressing up on his toes to get a better and more pleasurable angle. Charles was crying out in gratification below him. "Yes Erik- - so good- -so fucking good- - I- - I love- - I love your cock."

A sharp gasp left Erik at those words; he gripped onto Charles' hips even more, thrusting into the smaller man with his all. "Charles- - yes," he choked out, feeling that knowing heat building in his body as his orgasm neared closer. He reached around and grabbed Charles' cock, stroking the man quickly to his release (Charles gasped, mouth falling open as his breath escaped him in hitches) before he himself felt his orgasm shoot through him- -

"I love you Charles," he breathed out against the smaller man's neck as he filled him with his seed.

Charles shuddered, eyes closing as the words sent tingles through every electron his body. _Loved him- - Erik loved him- - oh god._ But before he even had the chance to respond, Erik breathed against his back: "Why didn't you tell me?"

And Charles knew- - he just knew. His eyes opened, cheek still pressed against the shower wall and Erik's cock still deep inside him as he looked off across the room. "I'm sorry," he told the man behind him, absent-minded.

Strong arms wrapped around Charles' waist as Erik drew him nearer- - back to chest.

"I won't lose you."

…

Hank walked into the Medical Ward- - and blinked. "Good Lord! Do you HAVE a death wish?"

Black on his eye and smile on his face (oh god, he must he doped up) Alex just remarked: "For you," as he continued to grin like a loon. _Yep, definitely drugged up._

Hank came closer, eyeing over the blond's body for other injuries. "As your doctor," he said with a grimace once he took note of the inmate's decrepit looking hand- - _Christ it's probably broken in at least twenty different places_ \- - "I'd have to advise you against pissing off Logan Howlett further." He then smiled, "But, as your boyfriend," he blushed, "I'd have to tell you that I'm extremely flattered and couldn't be more turned on at the moment."

"So, broken bones turn you on huh?" Alex said as he swayed a little on the exam table. "I'll break my other hand right now then—I'll break every bone in it." Hank frowned. "How much morphine did they give you?"

Shrugging, Alex just held up his mangled hand and took a look at it. "I don't know? A lot?" Hank grimaced at said mangled hand - - Jesus, it looked like it'd been through a wood-chipper- - how was he still smiling?

Oh right, morphine. That'll do it.

"How," the doctor asked with a face, "did Logan break your hand exactly?" He really wasn't sure if he wanted to know…

"Free-weights," Alex replied, leaning in closer, "but I have to give it to him, he must know what I'm up to, or he must have a soft spot for me after all, cause' luckily he just broke my hand, not say— my jaw."

Hank arched an eyebrow. "And why would your jaw have been worse?"

"Cause' I wouldn't have been able to kiss you."

Oh.

Yes—that makes sense.

Alex drew Hank in closer with his non-broken hand and closed the distance between their lips. So. Totally. Worth It- - Every broken bone. 

Once Hank pulled away, cheeks flushed and breath slightly hitched, he glanced up when something in the blond's hair caught his attention. He frowned. "What's that slop like stuff in your hair?" he pointed.

Alex made a face. "You don't want to know."

…

The halls were quiet as the new prison guard made his way down the dark corridor. Ah the disadvantage of being the new guy- - you get all the shitty shifts. Nightshift that is.

Passing each cell, he spared a glance to make sure all the inmates were fast asleep and not humping each other for fucks sake. That shit seems to happen a lot around here.

In fact, a lot of fucked up shit seems to happen around here. What kind of ate-up prison was Warden Frost running around here? He wondered if she knew about all the bets the guards (started by Shaw) placed whenever the inmate's got into fights with each other.

Probably not. She seemed like the no nonsense type of woman.

Almost finished with his round on Cell Block 6, the new guy was just coming up to the last few cells on the strip. He wondered if he should go down and see what-

*Bam!* A fist- - _a mother-fucking, hairy fist_ \- - came out of nowhere from beyond the bars and knocked the guard clean out. A second hand then reached out and grabbed the man before he fell to the ground and snatched the keys from around his belt before the hand DID let the body fall.

Unlocking the door to his cell, Logan stepped out (stepping _around_ the fallen body) with a cigar and a grin.

"Here I come Scott."

TBC


	10. We Strive To Do Our Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik can't deal with the thought of losing Charles, and Logan's still an asswipe. What else is new?

Erik used to curse the fact that the bunks in prison were so goddamn small- - seriously, fucking unfair for a man his height- - but now, well now he couldn't be more happy. It just means that Charles had to snuggle up even closer to him when they're lying together.

"Charles," Erik's deep voice said as he smoothed a hand through the brunet's hair before sealing their lips together for a rich kiss, one that sent shockwaves of pleasure through Charles' body. He trembled lightly under the German's body. Such intimacy, such closeness- - it was almost enough to make him want to cry. (Somewhere in the distance, Azazel had the sudden urge to roll his eyes.)

When Erik pulled away, he kept his forehead pressed to Charles', his hand still in the younger man's hair and lips just inches away as he looked profoundly in his eyes- - almost as if he was trying to see Charles' very soul.

"Is it selfish of me," Erik whispered against his cellmate's lips, "to hope that your appeal doesn't go through?" Just the very thought of losing Charles was eating away at him. Ripping his heart into shreds.

"No," Charles replied, just as quiet. He looked back and forth between the taller man's eyes, "It's not." How could he accuse Erik of being selfish of that when he himself was wishing for that same thing?

"I don't want to lose you Charles," he told the man soulfully, "I meant what I said the other day- - I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone before." 

Charles cupped the German's face, looking up at him. "I know Erik."

"You do realize that this is it for me—this is my destiny. I don't get a second chance. I don't get the chance of parole. I'm in here for life," Erik said softly.

"I know."

Erik swallowed. "I can't lose you Charles. You're the first ray of sunshine I've had in my life in years- - decades even. It's not fair that I finally saw the light, and now I may be losing it again- -going back down into the darkness."

"Oh Erik-"

"I won't lose you Charles- - I won't go back to that abyss."

"Erik," Charles said, stopping him with a tender hand to the other man's face. "I'm sorry Erik, I don't know what to say- - but it seems that this is happening, whether either of us like it or not. There's nothing I can do." 

The older man just looked at him for a moment. "Yes there is Charles," he knew he shouldn't have said it, but it was out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

Charles stared at him, shocked. "Do you know what you're asking of me?" he said so softly it was almost inaudible. How could Erik even _ask_ that of him? Once was enough, Charles could never kill again. Not even for Erik.

"I'm sorry," Erik said quickly, "it was selfish of me to ask. I- -I just can't bear the thought of losing you." He looked away, ashamed. He knew he shouldn't have asked- - he was just so desperate not to lose Charles. Erik would do it- - he would kill a thousand men if it meant being with Charles forever. But unfortunately, it's the other way around, and Charles isn't willing to go on a murderous rampage for him.

Erik doesn't blame him though- - he knows it's not in Charles' blood. The man's not a murderer; he's too gentle and kind to be.

He's too, _Charles_. Perfect, sweet, lovable Charles.

"It's okay Erik," Charles told him kindly, hand stroking his face now, "I know you just don't want to lose me." He swallowed, choosing his next words carefully. "There's nothing we can do, is there?"

Erik sighed, rolling off the smaller man and looking up at the bunk above them. "There's only one way out of here for me Charles, and that's in a body bag." 

And Charles knew this was true, he just wished it weren't. He was silent for a moment before he glanced over at Erik. "I'll visit you as often as I can."

"That's not the same," Erik nearly snapped at him. He let out a long sigh, focusing back up on the top bunk. "It's not the same," he repeated, softer this time. "I need to be able to touch you- - hold you- - love you."

"You can love me from prison Erik."

"You know what I mean."

Silence.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Charles said timidly, hoping to change the subject a bit. He looked back over at his cellmate, "How are you not in the Hole? I figured after that Library beat-down you'd be in there so fast there would've been scorch marks on the floor."

This actually got Erik to smile, taking his mind off the fact that he may be losing Charles forever. "Warden Frost has a bit of a soft spot for me," he told the younger man. "She knows the Hole is no longer a suitable punishment for me," that and she knew that Erik losing Charles would be punishment enough, "so she made a deal with me that if I helped her crackdown on the drug-smuggling problem going on around here, she'd keep me out of the Hole for that last one."

"Drug-smuggling? Really?" Charles asked. Erik nodded. "And do you know who's behind it?"

"Of course," The taller man replied, "It's that redhead Sean- - he's got some great outside sources. He's been getting weed delivered to him ever since he got here. It won't be too hard to shut him down. I just have to have a friendly little 'chat' with him."

Charles made a face. "Why do I have a feeling by 'chat' you actually mean 'beat down', and by 'friendly' you mean 'brutal'?" 

But Erik just chuckled. "I was thinking more along the lines of just threatening him with my words until he agrees to stop dealing drugs- - just for a little while at least." Until Charles leaves at least, because after that, Erik just won't care anymore. He might even prefer being in the Hole all the time. They'll be nothing else for him in here once Charles is gone- - the Hole will be a welcome relief from reality. So dark, so empty, just like Erik's heart will be…

No- - don't think about it- - not now.

"I hope it works out," Charles told him with a small smile. He knew it would too- - Erik just had this way about him. Other inmates either feared him, or respected him. But then there were the just-plain-fucking-dumb one's who hated him and thought trying to have their way with Charles would be a good way to pass the time. But for the most part, Charles noticed that the other inmates mainly feared him.

"Come here Charles," Erik said in a low voice, drawing the smaller man back into his arms. "I just- - I just want to hold you for now." _Forever._ And Charles allowed himself to be held by the stronger man- - not that he would ever say no to that- - but he couldn't help but replay Erik's words from earlier in his head.

_"There's only one way out of here for me, and that's in a body bag."_

Perhaps, Charles thought to himself as Erik nuzzled his neck, he could work with that.

He just might have an idea.

…

"Did you, or did you not, punch a prison guard in the face and then proceed to steal his keys to sneak out of your cell?" Warden Emma Frost asked, calmly, to the inmate across from her - -her hands laced together and resting below her chin.

Logan, who had his feet up on her desk, cigar puffing away in his mouth, just replied: "Yeah, so what of it?"

"Logan!" Emma's hands slapped down onto her desk as she glared at him. "You're not even going to _try_ and deny it?" The inmate shrugged. "Okay- -it wasn't me then," he told her as he took another puff of his cigar. The fuck was her problem?

Emma glanced over to the prison guard who had a familiar looking black eye. "Was he the inmate that punched you?" She asked the man, motioning the smiling jackass across from her.

The guard nodded yes and Emma turned her attention back to Logan and gave him a pointed look- -eyebrow rising.

"How does he know it was me?" Logan asked as his feet became acquainted with the floor again, "he didn't even have the chance to see me… _ohhh_ , I see where you're going with this," he smiled at the Warden, "Very smart." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Can I go now?"

Emma sighed. "Logan, you know I have to punish you for this-"

"You didn't punish Lehnsherr," the inmate cut in quickly, "and he nearly beat a man to death with a book- - _A Tale of Two Cities_ , I believe- -so why so harsh on me? I even locked myself back up when I was done visiting Scott's cell." He did too- -even tossed the keys back onto the unconscious prison guard's body. He's such a nice fucking guy sometimes.

Eyebrows shooting up, Warden Frost gave the man a look. "How did you know about the Library incident?" she asked, suddenly very suspicious.

"Look," Logan said, leaning across the desk and ignoring the Warden's question about his presence during the Library Beat Down- -yeah, it has a name now- - "All I did was punch out some random guard, swipe his keys and go down to Scott's cell for a late night quickie- -I didn't kill or maim anyone- -I didn't attempt to break out again (that wall was way too high to scale in the first place) and I even locked myself back up when I was done," he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest again. "I don't believe I deserve to be punished." He could've done far worse, it was true.

This, did not amuse Emma Frost- -she leaned back in her chair as well and rocked for a second while she stared at the cigar smoking man across from her- -hands laced to her chin again.

"Alejandro, you're dismissed to go- -I need to talk to inmate #10121968 alone," she said, never taking her eyes off Logan and- -Christ if that woman can give some frightening-looking glares. 

The prison guard looked back and forth between the two (Logan grinning widely at Emma and Emma narrowing her eyes even more) before he beat feet the fuck out of there.

He did not want to stick around and see the outcome of _that_.

The second the door closed, Emma just sighed and shook her head. "Between you and Lehnsherr- -I don't know how I keep my sanity around here. Out of all the prisons in the country, you two jack-off's find your way to mine to torment me." 

Logan grinned. "You love it and you know it."

"I _tolerate_ it," she corrected him, eyebrow rising once more. "If it wasn't for you two asswipes keeping everyone in check around here, this prison would've gone to shit a long time ago."

"We strive to do our best."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't get too cocky with me Howlett, you're still not in the clear yet."

Propping his feet back on the Warden's desk, Logan said: "So Frost, you never answered my question about why Lehnsherr never received any punishment from the Library incident- - is he sucking your cock or something?" 

At this, Emma's eyes hardened into stone almost. "I'm going to ignore that last statement," she said coolly, "and to answer your question- -I got Lehnsherr doing some inside work for me," her lips then turned into a wicked smile, "Just like _you're_ going to do something for me as well."

"So this is what it feels like to be blackmailed," Logan muttered to himself before he put his feet back on the floor and sat up more to face the Warden. "Whatcha got for me Frost?"

"I have it on good authority that some of the inmates are planning a riot- -and that will _not_ be tolerated in my prison- -it is your job to find out who these individuals are and bring them to me," she gave him a look, "Is that understood?"

Logan took a puff of his foul smelling cigar. "I could probably do that," he told her- -already planning his beat down of the inmates in question, "and this will make us square for the whole punching-out-a-guard-and-sneaking-out-to-see-my-man thing?"

"As square as a square could be," she replied. 

Logan grinned and told her he accepted before he stood to go. 

"But Logan," she called out after him (he turned to face her), "No more knocking out my guards please- -it's hard enough to keep good help around here."

Logan just grinned. "No promises," he told her.

Emma sighed, massaging her temples- -fuck these inmates bring on the worst kind of headaches. "At least _tell_ me the next time you plan on doing that then," she said, "so I can be prepared," she added with a muttered. Fucking. Logan. Howlett.

Giving the blonde a two-fingered solute, Logan just replied: "Can do boss," before he headed out the door, leaving Emma to ward off her oncoming migraine. But then his voice floated back into her office…

"Next Tuesday!"

Emma face-planted her desk and let out a loud, frustrated yell.

_Fucking Inmates._

TBC.


	11. That Darling, Is Your Ticket Out Of Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Janos, he never even saw that hairy fist coming. And Charles wakes Erik up in a _very_ nice way.

Slowly, and secretively, Charles made his way to Azazel's cell in the cover of darkness. Thank fuck it was Tuesday and he'd convinced Logan the day before to help him 'break out of his cell for just a little while', as Logan puts it when he needs to go see Scott.

Logan had put the keys gingerly outside Charles and Erik's cell- -careful not to wake Lehnsherr, as Charles had asked- -before giving the brunet a wink (who was snuggled up next to a sleeping Erik, who somehow even managed to look frightening while asleep- - fuck- -could his hold _be_ any tighter around Charles? Good luck getting out of that buddy) and disappearing off into the darkness to go see Scott.

He wasn't going to question what Charles was up to. Yet.

Somehow though, Charles DID manage to abstract himself from the sleeping German (the blowjob he gave him before lights out probably helped), which was how he found himself slinking slowly down the hallway to Azazel's cell, after stepping over a knocked out prison guard's body. Christ, Logan really needs to teach Charles how to knock a man out with one punch- -that shit's impressive. (And useful.)

"Um, hello?" Charles called out quietly the second he reached the Russian's cell, looking for any sign of movement. "Come in," came the man's thick accent from behind a couple of hung sheets from the ceiling, blocking his view from the outside- -and Jesus- -it was as if the man had something to hide.

And he did, Charles discovered upon unlocking and entering Azazel's cell. Holy fuck, the man had what looked like a small science lab of shit—tons of tiny bottles, dried herds hanging around, milk cartons full of god-knows-what and even a couple of beakers and test tubes. Yep, Azazel's definitely the man to go to when you need something—whether it be drugs or poison—he's sure to have something to fuck you up (or kill that annoying inmate you can't stand—ah, good old boat cleaner—does the trick every time).

"Ah, Lehnsherr's little love toy," Azazel said once Charles emerged, "I've been expecting you." He smiled creepily at the brunet and- -Christ, how Janos finds that smile anything but fucking terrifying is anyone's guess.

"So you remember our discussion from the week before?" Charles replied, ignoring the little pet name the other inmate just gave him (he kinda thought it was cute himself… oh lord, what was Erik doing to him?).

Azazel nodded, "I do, I do, of course. Come, take a seat- -I have just what you were asking for." 

The man moved over on his bunk, making a spot for Charles to sit down as he reached over the other side of the bed and rummaged around for something. "I just got the last ingredient in yesterday- -not so easy to come by my friend," Azazel said to the smaller man as he re-emerged, holding a small tube of liquid.

"And it will get the job done?" Charles questioned with a gulp—there was no backing out now if he went this route.

The Russian creeper just smiled at him, tube still in hand. "I promise you my friend—it will get the job done."

…

Logan kicked the guard passed out outside his cell—Logan now back inside and locked away (just as he promised Warden Frost). "Hey buddy, nap times over—time to get up." He gave the poor man another gentle tap with his foot—which still felt like being hit with a baseball bat when it came to Logan, Christ. 

Groaning, Janos rolled onto his back—fuck his head was spinning, what happened?—and blinked up at the ceiling.

"What happened?" He questioned out loud. Fuck it felt like he'd been hit by a car. Logan just grinned down at the man from behind his cell bars—like the innocent man he wasn't. "You walked into my fist is what happened," he told the Spanish guard with a smirk. _Well it was semi-true!_

"I did?" Janos asked, still stunned and unsure how he came to be knocked out on the floor. "Wait, what do you mean, _I walked into your fist?_ " How was that even possible? He looked up at the burly man—at least he hadn't stolen his keys and broke out, that would have been real bad on Janos' account. He'd probably get fired, then he'd never see Azazel again.

Logan stuck his hand out and helped hoist the man up to his feet again. "Never mind that," the inmate said, brushing the whole conversation aside as if it never happened (Logan's good at that), "all that matters now is that you're back with us. You alright?"

Shaking his head a bit (trying to get the fuzziness to go away—seriously, like being hit by a fucking car) Janos just looked to Logan and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess." He looked around the hallway before glancing back to the inmate. "How long was I out for?" Hopefully not more than ten minutes…

"About an hour?" Logan concluded, thinking back to how long it took to fuck Scott up against the wall. 

Janos' face fell. "Oh god, I was out _that_ long? Warden Frost will have my ass on a platter! I should've already been halfway done with my route by now! I haven't even checked on Cell Block 5 yet!"

"Calm down buddy," Logan told him as he popped a cigar in his mouth, "Everyone in Cell Block 5 is just fine; they were all sleeping when I went down there," he said, nonplussed, as he lit up the foul smelling cigar. 

Now Janos' face turned pale—he was going to puke. "You-you got out?" he croaked. Dead—he was a dead man as soon as Frost found this out.

"Course," Logan responded, taking a puff before blowing out a cloud of even fouler smelling smoke. "I get out every Tuesday—how else do you think I find time to have a boyfriend who's in a completely different Cell Block as me? Once a week Yard Time when all the Blocks get together isn't good enough for me—I need more than that." Hell, if Frost was smart she'd just transfer Scott to Logan's Cell Block, but _nooo_ she just had to be a cold-hearted-bitch (Logan's words) and make it difficult for the man.

"Oh god," the dark haired man mumbled, still in shock that an inmate escaped on his watch AND snuck down to see other inmate (yet he locked himself back up when done…strange). "The Warden's gonna kill me- -she'll fire me for sure-"

But Logan just chuckled, taking another puff of his cigar, and cutting the worried man off. "Calm down buddy, you have nothing to stress about- -I aint telling Frost what happened (she of course, already knew- -which is why she put Janos on that shift. What? Frost has a sense of humour) and neither will Scott- -you'll be just fine."

"Re- _really?_ " Janos asked in disbelief. He knew this prison was ate-up, but he'd never imagined shit like THIS would go down. No wonder Shaw loved working here so much- -fucking weird one _he_ was.

"Yep," Logan said, leaning against the bars now as he puffed away, "and the way I see it is, I just did you a favour." (Janos cocked an eyebrow at this.) "Not only did I do your shift for you, I also gave you enough time to go down to Azazel's cell and spend some 'quality time' with him as well." Logan smirked at him, "Your shift ends in what, a half hour? That's plenty of time to go visit your boytoy AND make it back in time to report in to Frost." The inmate took another puff. "So uh, _you're welcome_."

Janos just _blinked_ at him. What the…what the fuck just happened? But before the guard had a chance to respond (as if he HAD anything to say to that) Logan just shooed him away. "Go- -go on now- -get out of here. Go see your loverboy, he's waiting for you."

Eyebrows shooting up, Janos just looked at the burly man, confused.

Logan sighed before adding: "Azazel's cell may or may not have been unlocked during the time you were 'napping' on the floor," with an eye roll, "You might want to go. Check. On. _That_." 

And this finally, _finally_ got Janos to react. "O- _oh_! Oh my, I- -I guess I should go 'check' on that," he said quickly, turning on his heels and leaving.

"Fucking dumbass," Logan muttered to himself as the guard descended down the hallway.

Azazel totally owed him now, like, _big time_.

…

Charles woke Erik up the best way he knew how the next morning- -with a blowjob.

"Hmm," Erik moaned out with a smile as he started to stir. He glanced down to the man between his legs, who was currently sucking away. "Well, I must say Charles," Erik rasped out as his hand moved down to tangled in his lover's hair, "this is sure a nice way to wake up." He wanted to wake up EVERY morning that way.

Charles popped off Erik's cock with a smile just long enough to tell him: "I have a surprise for you after this," before he went back to sucking. 

Erik's eyebrows shot up as he looked down in puzzlement to the other man. "A surprise? This is surprise enough," he groaned out hoarsely, his voice still coming to after being asleep. "I got a blowjob last night and now another one this morning- -what more could I ask for?"

Well, Charles not to go free, but he wasn't going to think about that right now- -not when the man was doing _that_ with his tongue and causing Erik's eyes to roll back into his head and moan.

"Fuck Charles," he bit out, "such a good little cocksucker you are." 

Charles picked up his pace, sucking and licking even faster, hoping to push Erik over the edge.

And over the edge the man went- -he let out a straggled moan (tightening his grip on poor Charles' hair) as he spilled his seed messily into Charles' warm and talented mouth.

After swallowing, Charles- -because he's like, the words biggest tease- -popped off Erik's cock and licked a long, and slow stripe up it, just to be sure he got all the cum.

"Christ Charles," Erik moaned out, eyes focused on the man below him, "You're going to be the death of me." 

Charles smiled. "No," he told the man he just preformed fellatio on, "but _this_ will be." He reached under their bunk and pulled out a small tube of liquid and placed it on Erik's still heaving chest. 

Staring at the object in question, Erik just inquired: "Charles, what is that?"

Charles grinned even wider. " _That_ darling, is your ticket out of here."

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have seen the movie _Let's Go To Prison_ , you probably already know how this is going to end- - so don't ruin it for the rest darn it! XD


	12. You Think It'll Work?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to heat up.

Erik stalked across the Yard- -and now, when Erik stalks, he _stalks_ \- -like, people fucking part faster than the Red Sea. Christ.

"You _ass_ ," the German snarled at Logan, who was sitting idly on a bench, working on his shank and laughing with Azazel about that time they tried to scale the walls with sharpened spoons- - _fuck_ , that was a disaster from the start. He grabbed the burly man by the shirt collar and hoisted him up- -to where they were eye to eye, Logan losing his shank in the progress.

"What the fuck Lehnsherr?" Logan barked at him, pulling himself out of the angry man's grip. "What's up your ass today?"

" _You_ ," Erik spat at him, jabbing a finger into the brunet's chest, "you helped Charles sneak out of our cell the other night?" He asked with fury in his voice. 

Logan furrowed his brows in confusion at the other inmate. "Yeah? So what of it?" The fuck was Lehnsherr's problem?

Now Erik was super pissed. "You dick! Do you know how much shit you could've got him in? You already know I don't have much time left with him as is! So why the fuck would you help him do something as stupid as break out of his fucking cell in the middle of the night?!"

"Ay! He asked ME for help," Logan told the taller man, looking Erik dead in the eye as he squared his shoulders, "I didn't _ask_ him if he wanted to breakout- -he came to ME." Fuck, if Erik wants a fight, he'll get a fight.

"He could've got sent to the Hole you fuck!" Erik shot back, straightening up even more. He'll fuck up Logan right here if he has to. The fucker almost cost him his Charles. He could've been sent to the Hole until his appeal, which was coming up soon (like, this fucking week). Then Erik wouldn't have had the chance to spend his last moments with Charles, and he was pretty positive his lover was getting out- -the man's lawyer had very high hopes.

"Fuck off Lehnsherr, he asked me," Logan replied just as hotly. "You got beef- - take it up with your man, not me." 

He went to turn away from his friend but Erik had other plans- -he grabbed Logan by the arm and spun him back around. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled at the muscular inmate, "if you haven't noticed, I'm still pretty fucking pissed about what happened."

About this time, Charles elbowed his way through the small crowd of inmates that seemed to have formed around the two men (everyone wants to see a good fight around here, Christ). 

"Erik!" He called out, "Stop this, please- -he didn't do anything wrong- -I asked him for help!"

Never turning his eyes away from Logan's, Erik just told his lover: "This doesn't concern you Charles, just let me deal with it," as he tightened his grip on Logan's upper arm. 

"Listen to your fuck-toy Lehnsherr," Logan warned, eyes narrowing at the man holding onto him, "I don't want to have to fuck you up, but I will if you don't let go of me and fuck off."

This just made Erik chuckle eerily, he held onto Logan more. "I'd kill you before you even threw the first punch."

Now Logan was smirking sickly. "Is that fucking so?" He chuckled himself. "I highly doubt that," he told the German. "I'm pretty sure you'd be the dead one here, should we go down that route." He turned his head to the side and spat on the ground. "So you wanna let go of me now?"

"I'd rather rearrange your face for almost fucking up my last chances of being with Charles," he sneered at the dark haired man. 

And again, Logan chuckled eerily, "Last chance Lehnsherr, let the fuck go of my arm," he warned. 

Erik just tightened his grip, refusing to back down.

"Alright," Logan said as he looked to the side, face hardening, "you wanna play that way? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." He cocked his fist back and-

"Ay! That's enough!" Shaw's voice cut through, clearing out the group of inmates that were surrounding the two men about to brawl. _Damn, that would've been a good fight too._

Erik released Logan's arm and the brunet took a step away from him. They both looked to Shaw, who was making his way over to them. 

"You two asswipes are gonna have it out and I don't even get an invitation?" The guard asked the men as he made his way closer. "That's selfish! Goddamn that's selfish. Cause' God knows I want a front row seat to that cat-fight," he said with a wicked grin, eyeing the two. "You two wanna kill each other? That's great- - that stupendous- -it'll save everyone else around here the hassle."

"The fuck do you want Shaw?" Logan asked irritably.

Getting in Logan's face, Shaw just replied: "This is my prison Howlett- -I get to schedule the extracurricular actives around here, and if you two are gonna fight, I need some time to get some action going," (and of course by 'action', he means 'bets') he took a step back from the burly man and glanced at both of them, "So, uh, how's Friday sound for ya? Friday good? Say, Wreak Yard? Fight to the death. Does that work for you two dickheads, huh?"

Eyeing each other, Erik and Logan made faces at one another. Shaw smiled. "That looks like a yes to me," he concluded. "Next Friday it is. Gives me plenty of time to get some bets going on around here."

Erik narrowed his eyes at Logan. "Friday it is," he confirmed, and Charles' face paled.

…

"You think it'll work?"

"Of course it will," Erik murmured against Charles' lips before sealing them together for a fierce kiss. 

Charles closed his eyes as he hummed softly into the other man's mouth, his arms wrapping around Erik's neck as they lay together in their bunk. 

Erik broke the kiss gently, opening his eyes and looking down at the man he loved. "It has to work," he said quietly, "'cause if not…" he let it trail off.

"I talked to Raven," Charles said quickly- -knowing where Erik was going with that, "just in case…" 

But Erik just shushed him, tipping the brunet's chin up and forcing their lips to meet again.

"Everything will be fine Charles, I know," the older man reassured him after the kiss broke. "It was your idea after all," he added with a smirk. He trusted Charles- -100% body and soul.

"I know," Charles sighed. He looked off to the side, "I'm just… nervous is all." He looked back at his cellmate. "I- -I love you too Erik," he said softly. 

And Erik smiled. That was the first time that Charles had said that to him- -and it made Erik's heart flutter in delight.

But seriously- - if you fucking tell anyone that shit- -he'll fucking kill you. Erik's heart does NOT 'flutter in delight'. _Fuck_.

"I love you too Charles," he murmured, and then pressed their lips together again, for a more passionate kiss this time. He kissed his way down Charles' neck- -hands roaming all over the smaller man's body until one of them came to rest on Charles' hardening cock- -the other worming its way up Charles' chest, under his shirt.

"Should- -should we at least wait until Light's Out?" Charles asked with a gasp as Erik palmed his cock and sucked a kiss onto his neck. 

"Fuck Light's Out," came the taller man's muffled reply as he continued to mouth hotly all over his lover's neck, "I don't care who sees us fucking- -their all jealous anyway." He started to unbutton Charles' prison shirt.

"Oh," Charles gasped, as soon as Erik's hand came in contact with his revealed flesh, "O-okay then- - fuck me," he told his cellmate, and Erik looked up at him with hungry, wanting eyes.

And fuck they did- -as if it might be their last time (which it very well could be)- -Erik rolled his hips into Charles', hovering over the smaller man as his cock penetrated him slowly, over and over again. He held one of Charles' legs up in the air, placing a kiss his ankle- -as his other hand held firmly against the brunet's hip, drawing him closer with every thrust.

"Love you Charles," he murmured, eyes still locked on blue.

Charles just replied back, "I love you too Erik," as they fucked slowly and passionately- -each thrust more tender then the last. Charles arched his back up, coming off the bed slightly, to meet Erik's moving hips better- -forcing the man's huge cock deeper and deeper inside him. "God Erik," he moaned, "I love the way you fuck me."

This caused a wave of arousal to rush through the German's body. He felt Charles' words in every fiber of his being as they made love- -skin meeting skin as Erik snapped his hips even more now- -his grip tightening on Charles' leg and hip. 

"Yes Erik, faster," the smaller man encourage him as he felt the cock inside him speed up, "that feels so good baby," he groaned out, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Erik's talented cock took him away- -broke him down piece by piece.

Erik huffed out a breath, still watching Charles, _fuck he looks so gorgeous_ , as he picked up the pace- -driving his cock in and out of his ass quicker now. He switched angles, coming up more on his knees now and causing a loud, shameless cried to come from the smaller inmate. 

Charles' hands instantly flew up to cover his mouth as another particularly loud moan was leaving him, but Erik just reached up and ripped his hands away, still thrusting, and told him: "No, I want everyone to hear. I want them to hear that you belong to me," he said breathlessly, "and only me."

So Charles moaned, loudly, as Erik plowed into him. "Yes Erik," he cried out. "Feels so fucking good." He tipped his face to the side and closed his eyes once more- -mouth open slightly as his moans tumbled from it. One after another.

Until Erik came (it was all he could handle), filling Charles hotly with his seed, as his own moans came from his mouth. He glanced down just as the last spurts of cum were filling Charles and noticed the man fisting his cock quickly, so he batted his hand away and took over- -pumping Charles to completion, his cock still deep inside him as he leaned down to press their mouths together. Charles came between their sweaty bodies, breathing ragged and chest heaving.

Erik pulled back just enough to press their foreheads together; he too was winded, and gasping. "That wasn't the last time Charles," he told him as he shook his head, foreheads still touching, "that won't be the last time."

…

 _'Hey Logan, the Zoo called, they're missing one of their baboons- - so tell your mama to get her fat ass back in her cage.'_ Alex sat up on his bunk with a smirk. _‘Yeah, that one will do,’_ he thought to himself proudly. He then touched his still swollen lip and frowned. _‘Hope he doesn't fucking kill me.’_

Just then, a clanking sound from his cell door startled him. He dove to the ground and rolled under his bunk as he yelled out: "Oh god! He's here to finish off the job!" and coward under his bed. He always knew Logan would finally just come kill him in the middle of the night. Logan was, after all, known for sneaking out of his cell. He should've stopped fucking with the man weeks ago.

"Uh, Alex?" came a voice that was most definitely not Logan's. _Thank fuck, he'll live for yet another day._ The blond stuck his head out from under his hiding spot.

"Hank?" he asked in disbelief, eyeing the doctor as he unlocked and made his way into the cell.

"Who were you expecting?" Hank asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Death," Alex replied as he came out from under his bunk. He stood up and shook his head. "Wait, what are you doing here? You know how much trouble you could get in for breaking into my cell?" He blinked, thinking about what he just said. "Wait, _how_ are you even breaking into my cell? Where did you get keys from?" This was so very un-Hank-like.

At this, Hank looked sheepish. He fidgeted nervously with the ring of keys, eyes cast downward. "Um..."

"Oh god," Alex breathed, face gone pale. "You fucking killed the guard and stole his keys," the inmate concluded. 

Hank's eyes shot up and he gave his boyfriend a disapproving look. "What? No." He shook his head. "Do you really think I would be capable of something like that?"

Alex looked at him for a second before shaking his own head. "Nah, you're too gentle. That would be more of Lehnsherr's thing." He then smiled softly at the man with glasses. "So…what are you doing here then?"

Hank scuffed one shoe on the ground and looked bashful again. "I wanted to see you," he told the prisoner softly. "And for once not all beat up and bloody," he added quickly. It was as if he _knew_ what the blond had planned.

Okay, so Alex will save that 'Logan's mama' joke for another time, this was still too good to be true. Hank had actually gone against all rules, risked his job, and broke into Alex's cell just to see him. Alex couldn't feel anymore squishy in the heart if he tried. He shook his head again and smiled at the doctor. "So, I still wanna know- - _how_ you pulled this off?" Because that was almost as arousing as the fact that Hank was there. He looked down at the keys in Hank's hands. "How did you get the keys?"

And again, Hank went all bashful and shy, eyeing the ground as he spoke. "Well, um…I didn't _kill_ the guard, as you so previously thought." He looked up and shot Alex a look (Alex smirked). "…I may have just… administered a sleeping drug to him…" he mumbled and looked back down.

Alex's smile grew ten times wider. "Oh Hank." It was all he needed to hear- -he drew the doctor in closer. "That's the most awesome thing anyone's ever done for me." He sealed their lips together and Hank dropped the keys.

Breaking away after a moment, Hank adjusted his glasses and looked at the blond. "Really?" he asked the inmate. 

Alex nodded, still smiling like a loon at the other man. "Yeah," he replied," and I think I know just how to thank you."

Hank arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How's that?" And before he knew it, he was being pushed back onto the bunk behind him- -Alex climbing on top of him and smirking wickedly.

"O- - _Oh_ ," Hank said as Alex whipped his shirt off above him. "Oh- -yes, this will work."

And work it did.

TBC


	13. You Do Realize He Might Die Here Today?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday- -The Yard

Shaw stepped into Warden Frost's office- -and if the woman kept the room chillier than normal to match her icy complex, it was working- -he shivered despite himself and took a seat across from her. "You wanted to see me Warden?"

Emma sat at her desk, arms folded and flat on the surface, and Angel standing behind her at attention. The Warden narrowed her eyes at the prison guard in front of her. "Mr. Shaw, if you have any knowledge of anything, _untoward_ , happening amongst the inmate population, I will not hesitate to put your ASS in a _grinder_."

Eyes widening, Shaw was a bit taken back and at a loss for words. "Uh…um," he cleared his throat softly, "well…" _Crap, how did Frost find out about the bets?_ (Warden Frost continued to keep her frosty gaze locked on the man across from her, eyes hardening.) Shaw (becoming increasingly more and more nervous) shook his head and shrugged. "Uh, I-"

"I'm just tugging your nuts," Frost said with a smirk. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Put me down for 50 bucks on that asshole Lehnsherr- -I've seen his fighting style."

Shaw let out a relieved laugh. "Oh- -oh Warden," he shook his head (still relieved and a bit shocked that Frost didn't just rip him a new one. “That- -that is _my_ kind of sense of humor." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his bet book and a pen.

…

Friday- -The Yard.

Hundreds of inmates surrounded the two men about to face off to the death. None of them wanted to miss this fight. Prison guards were stationed up in the lookout towers with riffles just in case they decided to get feisty after the fight- -there were still rumors of a riot going around. Logan and Erik circled each other, hate in their eyes and venom on their tongues.

"This has been a long time coming Lehnsherr," Logan spat at him, working the kinks out of his neck and- - _Jesus, was he smoking a goddamn cigar too?_ \- -he squared his shoulders. "I've been on your side all these years- -looking out behind your back for you- -and what do you do the first time you find yourself a little fuck-toy that you fall in love with? You turn against me when I do something to help him out. I thought we were bro's man." He took his cigar out and spit on the ground. "Guess I was wrong."

"Give him hell baby," Scott said in the background, sunglasses on, arms folded across his chest and smile on his face. Alex (who was right next to his brother) rolled his eyes. "You do realize that he might die here today?" 

Scott shrugged. "I'm pretty confident he'll be fine in the long run."

"Fuck you Logan," Erik sneered at the man, "I didn't need you to watch my back- -I could've handled myself just fine without you. But what you did was just plain fucked up- -you KNEW just how much shit Charles could've got in, but you helped him out anyways, and why? You say it's just because he asked you." Erik shook his head. "Na, I think there's more to it." His eyes hardened. "I think you were trying to get on his good side, get him to like you- -get him to _fuck_ you," he growled at his former friend.

Scott snorted. "That's doubtful; Charles is too much of a bitch for Logan's taste," he said and Logan grinned over at his lover as Charles' voice floated up through the crowd with a: " _Hey!_ "

Now Erik was seething mad. No one called Charles- - _his Charles_ \- -a bitch. He lunged for the other inmate, knocking him to the ground as they fought each other in fury.

The inmates all around them started cheering and egging them on. Shaw stood not too far away, watching with a pleased look on his face. He was going to make a lot of money off this one. Logan managed to roll himself on top of Erik and sent a blinding punch to the man's face.

"Erik!" Charles cried out from the crowd, pushing himself closer to the front. It was almost too much to watch.

"I'm fine Charles," Erik grit out, wresting with both of Logan's hands- - that he somehow managed to grab a hold of during the struggle- -and flipped the stocker inmate off him. "I got this under control." He got up and sent a kick to the side of Logan's ribs (Logan groaned as he curled into himself). "The only one here going home in a body bag will be this piece of shit," he said as he went to send another kick to the side of Logan's body. 

But Logan had other plans- -he grabbed onto Lehnsherr's foot and pulled him back down to the ground- -causing him to land with a grunt. "Not on my watch," Logan growled at him. He climbed back on top, straddling the man, and started landing punch after punch to Erik's face again.

"Is anyone else strangely aroused by all this?" Scott asked. (Alex groaned beside him, covering his face with his hands.)

Still on top, Logan grinned down at Erik and reached into his sock and pulled out a shank- -the inmates all cheered- -"I believe you've met 'Slicer' before," he said before bringing the knife down onto Erik's chest, but instead of piercing through his skin- - the blade of the crudely made shank just broke off- -leaving Logan quite confused. Erik reached down and lifted his shirt up, revealing his under armor of licenses plates. Logan smirked. "Hey, I like that," he said as he looked down at them with a nod. He then looked back up at Lehnsherr. "I got something for you too," he said before rubbing the long sleeve of his undershirt into Erik's eyes.  
Yelling out in pain, Erik rubbed at his now burning eyes. "Fuck! What is that?" he demanded to know as he flailed around on the ground- -eyes stinging to all living hell. "Industrial disinfectant," Logan told him as he stood, "they got a shit load of it in the work room," he said before kicking the downed inmate in the side.

Erik groaned as Logan's foot came in contact with him, and then the brunet was on top of him again, punching Erik's face repeatedly.

Azazel was off in the distance somewhere- - slinking his way closer and closer to Janos- -and even he had to stop what he was doing when he saw Logan go flying across the field. Erik had somehow managed to get his feet up and kicked against Logan's chest, sending him careening across the lot where he landed into some of the other inmates.

Standing, Erik wiped some of the blood from his face with the back of his hand as he stumbled over to Charles. Charles caught the taller man in his arms. "Erik," he breathed, "are you okay?" Erik wrapped his arm around the smaller man's waist and drew himself upright. "I'm fine love," he returned, "this will all be over soon." He brought the brunet into a fierce kiss, smashing their lips together as if it might be their last. "Do you have it?" Erik asked once he pulled away. Charles nodded, and handed his lover the syringe.

Grabbing it, Erik started to turn back to Logan, but Charles grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. "Erik," he said, "in case this doesn't go as planned-" but Erik just placed a finger to the younger man's lips, silencing him. "Everything will be fine," he told Charles. "But I know- -you love me." Both men smiled and kissed once more.

"Ay Lehnsherr," Logan bellowed out, after emerging from the pile of inmates he took down with him during his fall, "get your ass over here so we can finish this- -I fully intend to make it to lunch today." He took another wobbly step forward. "Which is more than what I can say will happen to you."

Still facing Charles, Erik smirked, his hand tightening on the syringe in his hand. He turned around and held it up, showing the other man (the crowd roared). Logan just smirked, turned his face to the side and spat on the ground before pulling out his own needle and showed it as well. Now the crowd was cheering even louder.

The men charged at each other, Erik's needle-free hand reaching out to grab onto Logan's- -the one that contained his syringe- -and Logan did the same. They were both caught in a battle of struggle- -each man trying to stab the other while simultaneously trying not to get stabbed.

"Don't do it Logan," Erik cried out, still struggling to hold the burly man's needle-holding-hand away from his body. Logan grunted, tightening his hold on Erik's wrist, keeping Erik's needle away from him as well. "I won't do it if you don't do it," he told the taller man.  
Both men broke away (the crowd booed- -they demanded death) and circled each other. 

"You know Logan," Erik said after a moment, slightly out of breath, "you taught me a lot of things in prison- -I'll give you that." He looked up at his once friend. "But the most important thing you taught me, was not to trust anyone." And then before anyone knew it, Erik started running towards the other man again, syringe held firmly in hand. They clashed together once more, only this time, Erik gained the upper hand and drove the needle into the side of Logan's arm- -pushing all the contents into the man at once with a yell and then shoved Logan away.

Stumbling, Logan looked down at the needle sticking out of his arm. "Well I'll be damned." Then back to Erik. Everything started to spin and then went black as he fell onto his knees, then face-planted onto the ground with a loud thud. Scott's face fell in the distance.

Erik raised his arms in victory, as the crowd cheered. But when he turned his back to Charles, the younger man gasped in horror- -just then noticing the needle sticking from Erik's back- -it too, empty of its contents. 

By the time Erik had found Charles' worried face in the crowd, he frowned and began walking over to him. But it was too late. He too started to feel dizzy, and then the world blacked out as he came crashing down.

The last thing he heard was Charles yelling his name as his eyes slid closed.

…

The next day, Charles' appeal went through and he was set free.

…

Two Days Later…

Charles looked down at Erik's tombstone and sighed. Not many people showed up to the Prison appointed funeral- -but that didn't surprise Charles- -he knew neither Erik or Logan had any family left, and barely any friends (outside of prison that is)- -and he was even willing to bet that most of the people who DID show up had only come to make sure that it was true- -that either Erik Lehnsherr or Logan Howlett were indeed dead, if the smiles on their faces were anything to go by. Jerks.

Squatting down, Charles touched his lover's tombstone. "Oh Erik," he said softly, eyes closing for a second before looking over to Logan's, which was right beside Erik's (and Charles was shocked that Warden Frost didn't just bury them together- -in the same coffin, fuck. Cheap ass Prison funded funeral. The minister bolted the second it was over.) He sighed as he read Logan's. _Logan Fuck-You Howlett._ At least Frost granted him his last wishes and let him put what he wanted on his headstone. That was nice of her. He glanced back over to Erik's, and for once, he was glad the man didn't want anything funny on his.

_Erik Lehnsherr 1977-2012_

A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped slightly- -startled by the sudden touch. He looked back over his shoulder to see who it was.

"Hey," Raven said with a warm smile, "it's time."

Charles looked back at Erik's grave once more and then stood up. "Alright," he agreed softly.

They both walked back to the car, hand and hand, in silence. The few people that had been there had already left, leaving just Charles and Raven alone in the cemetery as they made their way back.

Once at the car, Raven popped the trunk and Charles made his way around to the back of it.

He opened the trunk the rest of the way, pulled out two shovels, and smiled.

"Let's get digging."

TBC


	14. Now We Live Our Lives

About a week ago…

_"And it will get the job done?" Charles questioned with a gulp- -there was no backing out now if he went this route._

_Azazel just smiled at him, tube still in hand. "I promise you my friend- -it will get the job done."_

_"What is it?" Charles asked as he took the tube and studied it._

_The Russian smiled. "Pigeon saliva and bat guano mixed with tar as an emulsifier. It won't kill you, but it will put you in a stupor- -more like a coma- -for up to three days. Trust me, that'll do the trick."_

…

Three days ago…

_Raven walked in the prison morgue, bag in hand and set it atop the dead body on the Coroner's exam table. She smiled._

_The Coroner looked inside the bag- -his eyes widen. Fuck that's a lot of money! He glanced up at the blonde. "Name?"_

_"Two actually," Raven said with a smile, "Lehnsherr and Howlett."_

_He nodded._

…

Now…

It was dark outside by the time Charles opened the cover to Erik's coffin and the man popped out with a gasp. He looked at Charles. "What took you so long?" he asked. 

Charles just smiled and wrapped his arms around his lover, breathing him in.

Raven helped them both out of the hole in the ground and eyed Erik up and down. "You always had a thing for taller men," she observed. 

Charles beamed. "Erik, this is my sister Raven- -she helped coordinate all this as well."

"I bribed the Coroner," she supplied with a wicked smile, and Erik's face fell at the news. "I paid him off," she clarified with an eye-roll. Jesus, men...

Erik laughed. "Okay, that's better than what I was thinking previously."

Charles then tossed Erik the spare shovel. "Come on." He looked at Logan's grave next. "Let's get to work." Erik caught the shovel and looked down at Logan's burial plot. "We should leave him in there- -it would be the ultimate joke," he said with a smirk.

This made Raven honest to god laugh out loud. "I like his sense of humour!" She grinned over at her brother. Charles just shook his head and sighed at his boyfriend, though his lips twitched to fight the grin that threatened to form, "Erik…"

"I'm joking, I'm joking," the taller man said with his hand up. He glanced back down at the freshly turned soil. "Alright, let's do this."

Not too long after, all three had dug up Logan's grave. Erik opened the lid and, wouldn't you fucking know it- -Logan popped up with a goddamn cigar in his mouth, Jesus fucking Christ. 

"Oh, thank god," Logan said as he pulled himself out of his grave. "I gotta drop a deuce like no one's business." Lovely.

Of course, Raven made a face at that seemingly unnecessary comment. She did not need to know that. At all. 

"And this would be Logan," Charles said dryly, looking at his sister. "He's Erik's right hand man."

Raven eyed the burly man. _Not bad,_ she thought.

"Sup toots," Logan said around his cigar, checking out the blonde next to him before looking over to Lehnsherr and smiling. "Good show you put on back there," he said to the taller man,  
"it was fun, we should do it again sometime."

Erik just grinned back at his friend. "I'd rather not. I think once was enough." Erik had no plans on returning to prison. Ever. He had Charles now, and he didn't want to lose him.

They all started walking back to the car, after Logan smiled happily at his tombstone. He was very pleased needless to say. "Hey, I wanna take this with me," (yeah, that won’t be creepy to have in your house) he commented as he pointed to his stone. _Maybe Frost wasn’t such a cold-hearted bitch after all,_ he thought with a head nod, puffing on his cigar. 

Charles just shook his head with a smile and looked over at the man. Logan will have to figure out how to get his own headstone out of the ground (although he could probably just pick it up, fuck, that man was freakishly strong) and take it back with him. "How long until Scott's out?" he asked the man. He knew the only reason why Logan wanted in on his was because his lover would be getting out soon.

"Little under two years," he replied, still puffing away on his cigar. He’ll come back for the stone later. "With good behaviour he could be out sooner." 

Erik looked over at his friend with a smirk. "Let's hope he behaves himself then." 

Well, without Logan there, that just might be a possibility. Charles' face fell. "Wait, he does know that you're not really dead," he asked Logan. "Right?"

Logan just smirked wider, glancing over at the brunet with a scandalous look and Charles' eyes grew even larger. "Logan!"

Erik started laughing and Logan just chuckled. "Relax," he told the shorter man, holding his hand up. "I’m just fucking with ya. Yes, I told Scott the plan." He put his cigar back in his mouth. "Just not that asshole brother of his." He smirked around his cigar. "I can't wait to scare the piss out of that little shithead the day he gets out of prison." Logan already had visions of himself popping out of a room yelling: _Boo!_

And he couldn't help it; Charles had to smile at that as he shook his head. _Can't say Alex doesn't somewhat deserve that. He did fuck with the man extra hard the past couple of months._ "I can't believe Azazel didn't want in on this as well," Charles remarked next, glancing over to Erik. "I figured he'd be the first one to jump on the 'let's get out of prison' train."

Shaking his head with an amused grin, Erik just said, "Na, he stays where Janos stays. I actually think the Russian fuck _likes_ prison." _Three hot meals a day, a place to sleep, and a Spanish lover-boy that caters to his every whim, what more could Azazel want?_

A screwdriver.

"Yeah," Logan chuckled. "That and, I don't think Azazel would know what to do with himself if he ever did go free- -every time the man sees a screwdriver, his hand gets all twitchy." 

The other two men laughed as Raven just arched an eyebrow in question.

"Screwdriver was his weapon of choice when he murdered," Erik supplied for the blonde.

Raven stared at him before nodding with an: "Ah." _Note to self, if this Azazel guy ever does get out of prison and shows up at our place, hide all the screwdrivers._

"So Logan, where are you going to head after this?" Charles asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Azazel and his love for screwdrivers. 

Logan shrugged. "Probably back up north- -I got a cabin up there in the woods that I can hole out in for a while." And some bear friends that he hasn't seen in a bit. "I figure I'll stay up there until Scott and that little shithead brother of his gets out. Then we'll go from there." Seriously, _Boo!_

By the time they all reached the car, Raven looked back at the dug up graves. "Uh guys, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but don't you think we should've probably refilled the plots? Leaving them like that might raise questions later on."

All three men looked at each other for a moment.

"Damnit, she's right," Erik said after a second.

"Fuck it," Logan said, "I'm headed up north, no one will ever find me there." 

Erik shot his friend a chiding look. "Come on man- -we were all in this together- -let's just refill the stupid graves. You got to help us." After all, Erik _wanted_ to leave him in there...

Turning his doe eyes on the burly man, Charles batted them. "Please Logan. Erik's right- -we’re all in this together."

Logan sighed. "Fuck those puppy dog eyes," he muttered before running his hand down his face. "Fine," he said starkly, "we'll refill the damn graves." It would be funnier if they didn’t though. He took a puff of his cigar. "But let's get some beer first damnit, I'm thirsty."

Raven shrugged. "I'm down with that," she said. She was beginning to like the cigar-smoking man.

Erik furrowed his brows. "Are you even old enough to drink?" he inquired.

"Are _you_?" She shot right back at him, childishly. Oh Raven...

Annnd Charles sighed. He could see the beginning of what as sure to be a loving relationship between the two. Joy.

"I'm in my thirties…" Erik deadpanned. Logan snorted at the light banter between the two. He looked over to Charles. "Good luck with that," he told the other man. He knew all about it, being the antagonizer himself.

Charles just shook his head. _So this is what it must be like to be Scott. Can't wait for the ‘pranks’ to begin._

They all got in the car and drove off in search of beer (a 30 pack should suffice) before they came back to cover the holes up once more. It was, as one could say, a very interesting night indeed, that involved a drunken Logan falling back in his own grave at least three times during the course of the night and Erik distracting Charles with his super fine and very well-toned arms (when he removed his shirt of course. Even Raven's jaw dropped. _"Damnit Charles, how do you always pull the hotties?!"_ ) that just escalated into Charles attempting to jump Erik in his grave and have his way with him ( _"Jesus you two, really?"_ Logan asked as he looked down into said grave. _"Do you HAVE no shame?"_ ) while Raven vomited behind someone else's tombstone- -because seriously, no sister should have to see that. Ever. Also, she may have drank too much. And at one point, Logan had drunkenly announced that he had to go find a ‘certain someone’s’ grave to piss on, but who that certain someone was, neither Erik nor Charles knew. They were however in the same cemetery that all the other deceased inmates were buried, so, it could be anyone.

After awhile though, they all did manage to get the graves back to their formerly covered states and picked up their empties (it was a 30 pack, so you do the math on how much each drank) before heading their separate ways. 

Although after _that_ little fun-filled night, none of them were really in any shape to drive. So after they all said their goodbyes ( _"Come on guys," Logan said, "I'll see you all again- -this aint goodbye forever, just 'fair well' for the time being."_ ), Logan and Raven took a cab- -Logan hitting a hotel (he’ll just walk into the nearest bar and win the money he needs for the night, this is Logan we’re talking about after all, fuck) and Raven going back to her own place (she moved out of the mansion after Charles left. There were just too many bad memories there. But now that Charles was back again, she may move back in). Charles and Erik decided to stay with the car. It was Charles’ car after all.

And they _thought_ they were just going to sleep in it for the night and drive out to the mansion in the morning. Boy were they both wrong.

"Please excuse me my friend," Charles nearly slurred, "I'm not normally this frisky, but it's been awhile since I've drank like this," he said as he ran his hands down Erik's arms- -the very arms that he was fawning over just earlier while both men were in Erik's grave- -which sounds so very wrong, fuck. 

Erik chuckled. "Do you hear me complaining?" he murmured to his lover, looking down at how Charles was straddling his lap- - _fuck_ \- -he could grind up into the man right now if he wanted to. Both their erections were practically touching. Erik started to lift his hips up.

Just a little further…

But Charles readjusted himself on top the taller man, putting Erik's hard cock right underneath his ass and rotated his hips.

Erik was…he was NOT going to complain about that either. He groaned lowly and wrapped his hands around Charles' waist.

"No," Charles said as he started rocking back and forth gently on Erik's lap- -feeling the man's hard-on rubbing against his asscheeks. "I don't hear you complaining," he finished and then sealed their mouths together. Erik groaned into the kiss and brought one of his hands up (from Charles' hips) and placed it behind the brunet's hair- -drawing him even closer into the kiss.

Once they broke away, both men gasping for air, Charles smiled as he pressed their foreheads together. "You're thinking about trying to shag me in the back of my car, aren't you?" He ran a finger down Erik's chest.

"Now you're the one complaining?" The older man asked, grabbing said finger before it travelled too far and placed it in his mouth. He looked Charles in the eyes as he sucked on his finger (Charles whimper softly).

"You win," he whispered, and Erik sealed their mouths back together, after removing Charles' finger, and smiled into the kiss- -probably in his own form of victory, Christ.

This time when they made love, in the backseat of Charles' BMW, the brunet rode Erik's cock from his seated position- -Erik's hands placed firmly on his hips as he helped Charles move up and down. And Charles kept their foreheads pressed together the entire time, both men gasping and panting the same air.

"I love you Charles," Erik had told him and Charles felt electricity shoot through his body. He gasped. "I love you too Erik."

They both came, Charles first- -painting Erik's stomach with his load, which in turned caused Erik to fire off next (just the sight of Charles coming between them because of Erik was enough to drive the man over the edge). "Charles," he rasped out, hands still strong on the brunet's body as he worked through his last few pumps- -milking his cock for all it was worth as he filled the man he loved with his hot semen.

Charles sighed, smiling, as he looked down at his lover. They kissed once more- -long and sweet- -before Charles extracted himself from Erik's cock. "So," he said as they started to clean up, "what now?"

Wiping his spent member off with his discarded undershirt (and good thing Frost actually cared enough to bury him in a tux- -he half expected to wake up naked, or better yet, still in his prison clothes AND with a bill for said prison clothes. Fuck. Only Frost would try and pull on prank on someone in their afterlife). Erik just smiled. "Now," he said as he tossed the soiled shirt aside, "we sleep." He then brought Charles back closer to him, forcing them to lay down together in the cramped area (ah, just like in prison).

Charles smiled as he snuggled in closer to the man he came to love. "Well I know that," he said with a yawn, "neither of us are in any state to drive- -that's for sure." He turned his face to look up at Erik. "I meant, what are we going to do from here on out? Now that we're both free."

And at this, Erik just looked down into Charles' lovely blue eyes. "Now Charles," he said as he tipped his lover's face up more, "now we live our lives."

Together forever and never apart.

THE END

 

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Alex walked down the hallway of the small cabin that Scott had brought them both to after they got out of prison. “Scott, what the fuck? Where are you?” He peeked into one room. Nothing. “Why did you bring me to this god-for-sake shack in the woods?” He really needed to get back to the states so he could see Hank, they were moving in together soon.

“Scott?” He called out again, looking into another room. _Hm, that’s a lot of animal heads on the wall, perhaps not in that room._ He slowly backed out, turning to continue on his quest through the creepy old cabin.

“Seriously Scott, where are you? This place is starting to freak me out.” He reached for the handle on another door, opening it slowly and-

“ _BOO!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! *Falls face down* Thanks to everyone who read and or commented, and to the movie: Let’s go to Prison, where 80% of this crack came from. XD


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